


How Many Is Too Much?

by ChaosComix



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Dean, Dominant Castiel, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Frottage, Inappropriate Use of Grace, Light Bondage, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Rimming, Self-cest, Submissive Dean, Submissive/Bottom Dean, Top Castiel, Top Dean, Voyeurism, Wing Kink, awkwardness... because I write lots of awkwardness, first time published porn fic, some dirty talk, some schmoop, women's underwear kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 23:47:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 26,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/754513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaosComix/pseuds/ChaosComix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchester brothers and Castiel are on a typical witch hunt where everything goes wrong. In other words, a typical witch hunt. The difference this time is Dean gets hit with a curse resulting in three different Deans with equally different personalities, and Cas gets hit with a curse of his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [itwasarobotheeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaad.tumblr.com](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=itwasarobotheeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaad.tumblr.com).



> (Late) Birthday Oneshot (turned Twoshot) present.  
> Unbeta’d because I just wanted to be finished with this thing and it was late enough as it is. 
> 
> I’m using male pronouns for Castiel (even though Castiel has no gender) because it’s easier and far less confusing for writing purposes.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Chanting fills a dark room, and the only lights come from lit candles from the robed individuals lost in their quiet murmurs. A young man struggles in vain against the table he’s chained and strapped to. He calls out for help as tears stream down his face, but his cries fall on deaf ears. The ones surrounding him are focused solely on the words of the chant. One member steps forward with an intricate, curved blade in hand towards the altar where the sacrifice fearfully awaits. The chanting grows louder and the one bound to the altar screams out, begging for help and to be released. 

As the leader makes his way to the table the room lights up brightly from a sea of different candles that line the back wall. The victim manages to move his head just enough to see that he’s been completely stripped of all of his clothes and the room around him has been painted red over the stone walls. Hooks on chains loom just above him and the crowd of robed figures close in around him slowly blowing out their candles as they approach. 

A gust of wind blows through the room quickly causing the light of the candles to blow out as the leader lifts the blade far above his head. Their victim only screams louder now only being able to plead and pray out to someone who will likely never help him. Some of the chanters stutter their words, some stop completely, and others only chant louder. When only one candle is left, the leader drives the blade down at the man on the table before him.

The cries of the sacrifice fall quiet as the last candle flickers out. 

__________

“Witches, again? Really?” Dean practically shouts as he pops the cap off of a bottle of beer from the six-pack he bought no more than ten minutes ago. He was hoping to savor them after a job well done, but with the word ‘witches’ already in the air, he decides he’s going to need it now and something stronger for later. Taking a swig of the cheap liquor calms his anger slightly, but not enough to keep from his grumbling, “I friggin’ hate witches.”

Sam rolls his eyes, but immediately returns their attention to the screen in front of him, “We know Dean. You say this every time we’re hunting witches.”

Dean throws his younger brother a glare, “Well, I do alright? Wait. What do you mean by ‘ _we_ ’?”

Seeming more interested on the information on his laptop, Sam continues scrolling through the information before him rather than look at Dean when he answers. “Yeah, well, they’re not exactly witches this time. It’s more like a bizarre cult. There’s some group that took one too many cues from Michael Ford.”

If Sam did look, he would notice that he’s only confusing and aggravating Dean further. “Who? And you didn’t answer my-“

Before Dean can finish, Castiel interrupts him as he steps far beyond what Dean would call his comfort zone. “He was the one who founded Luciferian Witchcraft.”

Dean jumps back at the sudden appearance of the angel, “Geez, Cas.” Then he turns to give Sam an annoyed look, “You meant you and Cas.”

Sam shrugs without looking at his brother, clearly already aware of the glare he’s getting from Dean. “He showed up while you were out.”

“Clearly.” Dean returns his focus to Castiel. He gives up waiting for anything else to be said and sighs as he walks over to one of the beds. Dean takes a few more drinks from his beer before placing it down on the nightstand and sits on the edge of the bed. “Luciferian Witchcraft? So… Devil witches.”

The younger brother huffs a laugh as he continues what Dean can only assume is research. Castiel on the other hand, has taken it upon himself to sit on the other bed opposite Dean with the usual somewhat serious expression the angel seems to constantly mask his, or rather the late Jimmy Novak’s face. “Not quite.”

Sam notices that Castiel isn’t planning on elaborating on the subject, so he jumps in to get Dean up to speed, “They focus on the ‘Left Hand Path’ of magic. It centers on the Devil, the Adversary, the gnosis of Fallen Angels, and…” Sam shifts uncomfortably as he clears his throat in an attempt to conceal the last words, “sex magic.”

Dean’s eyebrows nearly reach his hairline and isn’t sure what part of that to point out first. “Huh.”

Turning in his chair, Sam faces Dean and shoots him one of his classic bitch faces, “Go ahead. I know you want to.”

Apparently Sam knows _exactly_ what Dean was going to bring up first, if the way he shakes his head says anything. He’s not surprised when Dean finally responds, “Sex magic? Really?”

“Yes, Dean, but more importantly fallen angels. That’s why Cas is here. This seems to be bigger than we originally thought.” Sam gets up from his chair and goes over to take one of the beers Dean had brought back from earlier. He’s decides he’s going to need one if he’s going to keep his older brother on topic.

“Huh,” Dean repeats and stares at the angel sitting in front of him before he smirks. “Is that true Cas? I never thought angels and sex magic would go hand in hand.” 

Castiel glowers at Dean and his crude remark, “ _Fallen angels_ , and as much as I loathe to confirm the matter, it is true.”  
Dean chuckles lightly and although unphased by Castiel’s ire, he refrains from pointing out that Castiel wasn’t a fallen angel himself that long ago and Dean couldn’t even get the angel laid in ‘ _a den of inequity_.’ “Alright, alright. Don’t get your feathers in a bunch. So we’re up against ‘not-witches,’ and we need the big guns on this one. What else?”

Disregarding all of what he assumes are derogatory comments, Castiel tries to keep things on track and not fuel Dean’s joking. “We need to remove any and all threats this group may cause.”

Sam can already tell where Castiel is heading and tries to soften the blow a bit before both Castiel and Dean want to level the group and the whole place to the ground. “It’s possible not all of the members know what is actually going on, and the group might disappear entirely if we deal with their leader. There might be a few other nut jobs, but the less we have to take out the better.” Sam knows it’s a long shot that it’s only the leader behind the murders, but he highly doubts that everyone is actively involved.

This isn’t the first and it’s highly unlikely that this is the last time Sam is going to stick out his and everyone else’s neck to save everyone he can, but Dean keeps telling himself that they need to think more realistically on the matter. “And how the hell do you propose to do that?” Dean’s clearly annoyed, but in these situations it’s never really directed towards his brother. He won’t admit to the jealousy he has over the care and consideration that Sam seems to show these monsters over that of his own brother either. Instead he bottles everything up and misdirects his anger when he finally can’t take it anymore. “You want to walk up to the door and ask them which ones are the horrific, cult worshipping assholes and which ones are the _slightly less_ horrific, cult worshipping assholes?”

Dean’s misdirected anger seems to have hit home as Sam’s face twists to match the anger his brother holds in his own, “It’s called research, Dean. We should check up on all of them before rushing in without any clue what’s going on. We should be doing that anyway honestly.”

Now that he’s arguing, Dean can’t stop, “In the meantime, we just let these douchebags carry on with their little after school projects?”

Sam knows that Dean is right on some level. The murders will undoubtedly continue until they finish the job, and they have no idea if any of the others will pick up where the previous ones left everything, but if Sam gives Dean any leeway on the argument he knows Dean won’t stop until he’s won. “We have no idea what they are capable of! If we run in guns blazing without any clue of what we’re up against we could end up just as bad off as the victims!”

He hates the fact that his younger brother has a point, but Dean’s just as stubborn as Sam and refuses to let up. “I thought you said they weren’t witches. What do we possibly have to worry about some devil worshipping, sex crazed nut jobs?” Dean smirks when he thinks he’s finally gotten the upper hand on the dispute, “Besides, we’ve got Cas. They don’t stand a chance.”

The angel in question has been remarkably quiet as he watched the two brothers argue. Castiel realizes he could have and really should have just left and completed the job on his own, but that would only anger both of the Winchesters. The same applies to interrupting them. Although he agrees with Dean, he doesn’t care for the manner Dean’s using him to get his way. He finally decides to let the two brothers have it out until one finally gives up. Finally, he takes a seat in one of the two chairs by window and stares outside. In the distance, Castiel sees dark storm clouds approaching from the west. His eyes narrow and he continues watching them in silence. 

They’re running out of time.

Unknowing of the changes around them, Sam crosses his arms and frowns at his stubborn brother. “You’re right, Dean. We _do_ have Cas helping us on this one.” His gaze shifts to Castiel and he sighs as he realizes he should have just asked him in the first place, “Hey, Cas?”

Castiel slowly tears his attention away from the ominous clouds and faces Sam. The dark look on his face only hangs on a fraction of a moment before it returns to its devoid of emotion state, “Yes, Sam?” Sam seems to have missed it, but Castiel knows Dean didn’t. Both Winchesters’ anger seems to dissipate briefly, but Dean’s eyes widen slightly and he stares at Castiel with an unasked question on his lips. Or maybe he _is_ asking, but Castiel doesn’t search for it because he knows how much Dean dislikes having his thoughts read. 

Either he’s unaware of exchange or maybe Sam’s just used to it by now, but he decides not to press on it and resumes his conversation with Cas. “Do you think you can tell which ones are the ones we’re after?”

Castiel seems more preoccupied with watching Dean now when he answers, “I can.” He could also add that this matter could have been resolved earlier and they need to move quickly, but again, he refrains.

Dean’s anger is almost gone at this, and is replaced with a small sense of eagerness as well as smugness that he’s gotten his way in the end. “Great! So we’re good to go then?”

Sam and Castiel stare at who appears to be the most anxious of the three unamused, Sam’s displeasure more noticeable than Castiel’s, “Dean…”

Smirking, Dean tries to mask his amusement with an irritated tone, “Yeah, yeah. I know, Samantha.”

Sam sighs in resignation and as he and Dean begin packing a few things for the hunt. He pauses more than once worrying about how this is going to end up.

__________

The roar of the Impala cuts over the eerie silence that seems to encompass the entire town as the trio leaves the motel. When the sun starts to set off in the horizon, it slips behind the dark clouds already starting to loom overhead. Both Dean and Sam start to get uneasy when they both discern the storm is heading in the same direction as they are. Dean’s hands tighten on the steering wheel, and when he spares a quick glance to Castiel in the rear view mirror, he sees his friend looks just as concerned as they do. “Cas, these freaky ass clouds mean anything to you?”

Castiel meets Dean’s eyes, and his face is as dark and clouded as the skies above. “We need to hurry.”

The streets are almost completely vacant save for the few parents running out to drag their children inside quickly. The clouds reach their destination and start circling the small town’s lone church. Purples and reds swirl around like smoke, and lightning cracks through but it’s as black as the eye in the center. No one’s surprised when the sirens suddenly start wailing and Dean and Sam are glad for it. The less people involved and out in the danger zone, the better. To the mundane, they probably see this as some strange tornado, but the Winchesters and Castiel know better. If this is as bad as Castiel says it is the hunters know this will threaten more than just this backwoods town. 

Dean steps on the gas and carries on in the direction of the church, “I’m starting to agree with Sam on wanting to know what we’re dealing with. Care to fill us in, Cas?”

Sam’s too busy watching the supernatural storm in front of them to make any stabs at Dean for actually agreeing with him on something. Castiel seems to be doing the same and when Dean thinks the angel is going to remain tight lipped on the subject he answers, “I’m not completely certain, but it feels like they’re summoning one of my broth-.” He tries to catch the slip, but Castiel’s heart drops at the mention of one of his former brothers. The very ones who sided with Lucifer and fell. Castiel never held any resentment towards them except for the ones he already knew were corrupted. He hopes it’s one of the latter should it come to a confrontation. “I assume they’re trying to summon a fallen angel. Unfortunately, even the weakest fallen angels in this manner are more powerful than I am. We should keep the summoning from happening if possible.” 

Sam breaks free from his trance and turns in his seat to give Castiel a sympathetic look. He hates arguing with his own brother, but the thought of fighting and even killing one another like Castiel has been subjected to makes his blood run cold. He hopes for Castiel’s sake they can prevent their friend from having to go through that sort of trouble again or in the very near future at least. It would be nice for something to go their way for once.

The rest of the remaining drive is quiet and tense. Dean’s thankful for when they finally pull in the church’s parking lot. The tension is too much for him and he really wants to kill some witches… or whatever the hell they are. He all but flies out of the vehicle and makes a bee line for the trunk of the Impala, and Dean’s already grabbing gear from the trunk when Sam and Castiel get out.

By the time Sam meets Dean at the trunk, Dean has grabbed and loaded his favorite .45 as well as his sawed off shotgun. Sam seems to grab whatever he finds first which results in grabbing the Ithaca and the Taurus. While Sam is loading and double checking his gear, Dean decides to grab the Desert Eagle as well. It hasn’t seen much action and he thinks he could use the extra fire power this time. 

Meanwhile, Castiel has gotten halfway to the front door of the church and does a quick scan of the building as he waits. Wards have been placed up, but nothing that would keep the angel out, which makes sense considering the deranged group is attempting to summon an angel. Castiel just hopes he’s the only one showing up tonight. No one seems to be in the chapel itself at the present time so that only leaves three other places to check: the kitchen, the basement, and the bell tower. It seems most likely that a part of the summoning will take place in the bell tower and a majority of it will be held in the basement because those are the highest and lowest parts of the building. The fallen ones always had an interest in being dramatic, and nothing says Heaven and Hell like the topmost and bottom levels in a house of his Father.

Dean and Sam walk up to where Castiel is waiting, and Dean locks the clip of his desert eagle in place when he stands next to his friend. “So, got anything yet?”

Nodding, Castiel makes his way towards the front door, “There’s no one in the chapel, and I believe most of the summoning is being performed in the basement.”

Dean releases the safety on his guns and follows the angel, “Alright then. Basement it is.”

Castiel pauses at the front door and looks back at the two hunters, “And there’s bound to be some activity in the bell tower.”

Sam sighs, but is far from being surprised, “Sounds like we’re splitting up then.”

“Alright. Me an’ Cas will take the basement. Sam, you take the tower.” Dean goes for the door handle and doesn't leave the discussion up for debate.

Huffing in annoyance, Sam grumbles something Dean can’t quite hear but Castiel can, however. He can tell the younger Winchester is bothered by Dean’s overprotectiveness and is clearly sending Sam to the safer of the two locations. At the same time, he’s not going to argue because they’re short on time as it is. In the end, they split up and Sam goes to the clock tower and Dean and Castiel head towards the basement. 

Just as Castiel has said, no one was inside the chapel even though it looks large enough for any kind of summoning that the cult may be planning. Large stain glass windows with depictions of angels lined the walls, but the storm outside kept almost any light from entering through them. Castiel only paused a brief moment to look at the windows depicting his brothers and stopped when he noticed something was different. “Wait. I think I know who we are dealing with.” 

Sam has already left to check out the tower, but Dean stops at one of the doors he was checking while looking for the basement. “Well, let’s walk and talk. It sounds like we’re on a time limit, so fill me in as we go.” Dean pulls out his phone to text Sam anything that might be useful and continues checking doors.

Castiel looks around and his eyes finally settle on a door near one of the podiums and points at it. “That’s the door we’re looking for. There’s a fair amount of people below.”

Dean looks at Castiel questioningly and more than a little perturbed at the vague comment. “Fair amount? How many is ‘ _fair amount_ ’?”

The angel doesn’t pick up on Dean’s anxiety and replies as calmly as usual, “Somewhere between twenty and thirty. I can’t tell for certain. Some of them are very faint.” Dean doesn’t want to think about what that could mean but he has a good idea, and he opens the door as quietly as he can. 

Castiel pushes in close to Dean uncaring of the other’s personal space so he can whisper without risk of his voice carrying, “We’re dealing with the Spirits of Solomon. They are a group of seventy-two fallen angels who have essentially fallen so low as to be considered demons. All of them are extremely powerful individually, and I’ve heard rumors that each one commands legions of their own demons.”

That is not what Dean wants to hear. First, he finds out they were dealing with some crazy cult that uses magic but are not witches, and now he finds out these idiots are trying to summon fallen angels who have countless demons at their command. Dean finds himself thinking that this whole thing keeps getting better and better and he can’t wait for this to be over with. He sends a quick text to Sam telling him to be extra careful and that it’s probably going to be worst case scenario. Dean pockets the phone and readies his shotgun, “Awesome. Well, let’s get this over with.”

Dean pushes past Cas, not bothering to mention the rules about the personal space issues the angel seems to lack, and starts down the stairs as quietly as he can. The stairwell is black and Dean can’t hear anything going on down below so chances are either Castiel is wrong on this one, or this is obviously a trap. He knows which one he would prefer over the two, and he knows which one is most likely to happen. Unfortunately for Dean, they’re not the same option. Checking behind him, Dean turns around to tell Castiel that there’s an ambush waiting for them only to find the light from the doorway indicating that he’s alone and the angel is nowhere in sight. Regardless of the fact he can hardly see, Dean’s eyes wide in slight panic and peers all around trying to find Castiel. He quickly gives up his search when he hears voices below. 

“Who are you?! What do you think you’re-“

“You must stop this.”

The second voice sounds exactly like… “Damn it, Cas,” Dean grumbles as he now solved the caper of the disappearing angel. He quickly runs down the stairs and somehow avoids from falling down half of them when he accidentally skips a step. “Friggin’ angels.”

When Dean gets to the bottom of the stairs he sees a faint flickering light at the bottom of the door that separates Dean from Castiel and the ‘Cult of the Crazies.’ He throws the door open and feels like he’s been transported into some awful B horror movie. Candles encompass the entire back wall and blood seems to be their choice of paint as it almost completely covers the stone walls and floor around them. Castiel was right. It looks like there’s thirty people down here and a good number of them look to be in ‘rough shape,’ probably more potential sacrifices. Dean takes in a shaky breath and suppresses the shudder as memories of Hell break through his mind as he studies the room and its disturbing, yet oddly familiar, torture devices. 

Castiel is standing with his back towards the wall of candles and is surrounded by, what Dean rapidly counts, twenty cult members. Even with his loud crashing down the stairs, the cult seems more occupied with the strange man who magically appeared into the room. Dean’s got more than a clear shot to start taking them out and has the element of surprise, but more than half of them look terrified. Some are tightly clinging to others and most of them are crying. He’s fairly confident that he hears more than a few “It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” and “I just want to go home.” So Sammy was right, some of these people have gotten involved in some heavy dark art shit and should have simply stayed home playing World of Warcraft. That doesn’t mean Sam needs to know he was right though.

Dean surmises that five of the members are worth keeping an eye on and another one that must be the leader. He readies his shotgun and slowly walks toward the other end of the room. A few of the scared ones see him approach and cower at the sight of the gun until Dean mouths ‘ _Go_ ’ to them and jerks his head in direction of the door. They nod and with a quiet grace Dean didn’t know they had, they abruptly flee the room. 

Everyone else is still focused on Castiel and the one that looks like the leader repeats his earlier questions but in a less surprised and more angry tone, “Who are you, and what do you think you’re doing here?”

“I’m Castiel, and we’re here to put an end to this.” The words are said in an even deeper voice as if the angel was making an oath and promise right there.

One of the timid individuals cowering to the side stands up a bit straighter and stares at Castiel with what appears to be a combination of awe and hope in his eyes, “Castiel? As in-“

“I’m very aware of your friend back there,” the leader interrupts the other who shrinks back to his fearful state. “And what makes you think we’ll stop, that is, assuming you’re not too late.” Dean can’t tell because the leader’s back is to him, but he can almost hear the wicked smile behind the next few words, “Or that you are indeed who you say you are.”

Either Castiel doesn't approve of the guy’s mocking tone or being called an outright liar, but whichever way it is Dean recognizes that look as ‘ _I've had enough of your shit and now I’m going to smite your ass_.’ Dean takes this moment to try to start leading some of these misguided fools out of here.

The bells in the tower start to sound and it catches everyone, including the cult’s leader, off guard. Dean finally gets his first look at the leader’s face as he turns around surprised and looking in the direction of the sound. Something looks ‘ _off_ ’ about the guy. His eyes are distant. It’s almost like he’s not even there, but before Dean has a chance to register this, Castiel has taken it upon himself to close the distance between him and the leader. The lights of the candles flicker and the lightning sounds louder and closer as Castiel grabs the leader by the shoulder and spins him so that he’s facing Castiel again. Dean and everyone else in the room find themselves transfixed as the flames of the candles flare and then large, winged shadows fall over the wall. 

Castiel’s wings never cease to astound Dean. Each time he sees them, he thinks back the first time they met and how he emptied everything he had with a follow up from Ruby’s knife. It probably wasn’t the best way to make a first impression, but how the hell was Dean supposed to know the dude was an angel? Not that it made much of a difference in the end, the guy didn’t even flinch. His wings always seem to come out when Dean gets to the point that he almost forgets that Castiel is really a powerful celestial being in a meat suit.

Dean is so lost in staring at the shadows of the angel’s wings and reminiscing, he misses when the cult members fell to their knees and stared at the angel in awe. However, Dean doesn’t miss the part where Castiel burns out their leader’s insides right in front of them. The five members Dean was concerned about doesn’t miss this either, and they go for the weapons they managed to conceal up to this point. Dean pushes as many unarmed members out of the way and towards the door as possible, which proves difficult considering they are still all on their knees. He gets enough of them on their feet to start getting them out, but before they leave most of them run over to help the injured victims. Once in the clear, Dean turns to help Castiel out and finds these maniacs are no better than he was when meeting Castiel for the first time. Each one is unloading round after round into Jimmy Novak’s former body.

Lifting his sawed off shotgun, Dean takes aim and pulls both triggers sending a spray that takes down one and severely injures a second. Rather than taking the time to reload, he drops the shotgun and pulls out his .45, the 1911 Colt. Castiel maintains closing distance between the remaining cult members and grabs hold of another who tries desperately in vain to release herself from the angel’s tight grip. She cries out in fear and tears stream down her face when Castiel presses his other hand to her forehead and uses his grace to remove the threat the woman poses. She crumples to the ground, her eyes burnt out and the skin around them charred in the same way that had been done to her leader. The two uninjured ones back away from Castiel and the injured one spins around and lashes out causing Dean to drop his gun.

With his hands free, Dean punches the one who knocked his gun from his hands across the left cheek. Dean’s proud for breaking the crazy bastard’s nose for a split second before receiving a haymaker across his own face. Preoccupied with how he’s going to retaliate, the remaining two make a bee line for the door. Castiel suddenly appears in front of the doorway and the two freeze dead in their tracks unsure what to do. Remembering he came extra prepared for once, Dean reaches for his desert eagle after giving his attacker a punch to the gut for good measure. Luckily for Dean, the other is wounded enough that he stumbles back and clutches his stomach from Dean’s latest attack, giving Dean enough time to pull the trigger. Now the guy has a hole in the head to match that of his recent poor life choices. A big one.

Dean spins around while contemplating using the gun more often for the bigger, tougher hunts due to the massive damage it inflicts, ready to help Castiel only to see the last two remaining drop dead to the floor. Smiling, Dean sets the safety and returns his gun back to its former concealed place. “Well, that wasn’t too terrible.”

Castiel still looks uneasy and it doesn’t let up when the empty room is flooded with the sound of thunder followed by the sound of footsteps walking down the stairs.

Dean collects his other two guns and goes to the door leading to the staircase, “Bout’ time you showed up, Sammy.”

The bells in the tower ring again and Castiel knows where he’s made a horrible mistake. “Dean!” Someone should have checked the kitchen.

Clearly not expecting Castiel to call out like that, Dean faces Castiel confused as an unknown man stands at the base of the staircase. Castiel doesn't have much time to think and quickly flies to Dean’s side as he places himself between Dean and the newcomer. The second he does, Castiel and Dean find themselves being thrown across the room and something heavy sits in Castiel’s gut. He’s unsure what it was, but chances are he managed to shield Dean just in time from whatever spell that was.

Castiel looks over quickly and sees Dean in his peripheral vision to find him down for what is likely to be the remainder of the fight. Getting to his feet, he winces at the pain on his back where his wings emerge from his vessel. He recollects that after presenting the shadows of his wings as an effective scare tactic left them exposed until he was able to retreat his wings back with the rest of his grace. It was a dumb move on his part, but he wasn't anticipating fighting against anything that could actually damage them.

“Interesting.” Their new enemy is standing in the doorway looking at one of his hands as he flexes and stretches it, “This one’s more useful than I originally thought.” The man has short, jet black hair and blue eyes so dark they’re almost as black as his hair. His suit shares the midnight blue color of his eyes and a matching tie with a black dress shirt. Castiel doesn’t see the man on the outside, however. He only sees what he’s been dreading since he first found out about the practicing cult. 

“Amy.” Castiel says the name of his former brother and comrade low but underlying with sadness.

“Who’s Amy?” Castiel glances over his shoulder at the voice to find Dean struggling to remove himself from the cold, blood-stained floor. Dean’s more vigilant than Castiel gave him credit for, and always has been. He must have moved in the time Castiel wasn’t watching him though, he was almost positive Dean was on his other right and not his left.

“Amy is one of the Spirits of Solomon.” Dean’s eyes widen as Castiel informs of who they are dealing with, or that’s what he thought.

A familiar voice comes from Castiel’s right. The same place where Castiel thought Dean was lying prone on the floor earlier, “Amy? Sounds like you got gypped when it came to angel names, buddy.”

Castiel’s looking right at Dean, but his voice is coming from somewhere from behind him which isn’t possible. When he looks, Castiel finds he’s staring dumbstruck at a redundancy. Dean is indeed in the same place Castiel left him. His eyes are as large as the other Dean’s and Castiel tilts his head before redirecting his attention to his fallen brother with a rage he didn’t know he possessed, “What did you do to him?”

His ‘ _brother_ ’ holds his hands up in a placating manner, but does nothing to hide the venomous smirk, “Now, now. To be honest, I didn’t know what that was going to do. These humans and their magic are so unpredictable some times.” 

The Dean to Castiel’s right draws the desert eagle uncaring if it will work against the fallen angel or not, “Witches? Are you fucking kidding me?” He’s pissed and rightly so. Castiel wasn’t anticipating this by a long shot. “I thought you guys said they weren’t witches?”

The Dean on his left puts a hand on Castiel’s shoulder looking concerned at Castiel, “Are you okay, man?”  
“Of course he’s okay! He’s a friggin’ angel.”

“Would you two stop please? You’re giving me a headache.” Three. There’s three Deans and Castiel feels as if he’s had enough. Before he can charge at the abomination that was once his brother, Castiel feels a new hand on his back. Except it’s not on his back, it’s… he feels it on one of his wings.

Castiel shudders at the sensation and both hands leave as he feels his wings carefully unfurl. He can tell the two Deans at his sides back away from him as if they can actually see them. 

“Holy crap.” The three gasp out in unison and that’s when Castiel knows they _can_ see them.

Bringing them in to his front, Castiel inspects his wings. They’re much different now, other than the fact they are visible on this plane. He can see the blue in the fallen angel’s vessel much more clearly with his now black wings providing a dark contrast to the being before him. A being that is raging in anger and it’s all directed at Castiel. 

“You! I have no idea how you cloaked your grace so well, but you missed your chance.” As soon as the words are out, Amy charges at Castiel with an angel sword in hand. Castiel senses the Dean at his left and right quickly dodge out of the way as Castiel’s wings flare out and draws out his own angel blade. 

The sound of the two swords clashing mask the footfalls down the staircase and the two celestial being are lost in a graceful and deadly dance. Amy seems to have the upper hand, however, and Castiel is doing everything he can just to block the other’s onslaught. Amy uses this edge to prepare a magic spell in his free hand. His hand is engulfed in a blood red flame, and a sinister smile on his face. When the fire dies out leaving something much like demon smoke, the angel-turned-demon lord thrusts his sword at Castiel knowing the other has no choice but to block with his own. Castiel does exactly what the fallen angel wants him to do and glares at his enemy as he braces for the attack.

The attack doesn’t come. Instead, gunshots ring out from behind the battling angels. Dean Winchester, or one of the three Deans, empties his clip into Amy’s arm. It doesn’t seem to injure him significantly, but it does surprise him enough to stop his spell. Castiel takes the opportunity to drive his blade into Amy’s chest. A brief flash of light glows around the fallen angel’s eyes before it fades back to normal. Everyone watches as the pain twisted in Amy’s face morphs into anger, and he grabs Castiel by his throat uncaring of the angel blade still lodged in his chest.

Amy raises his angel blade to return the favor, but Castiel grabs him by the wrist to stop him and two of the Deans rush forward to assist. The third runs forward to try to pry Castiel free from Amy’s grip. Even with all the added help, it’s still not enough. Amy prepares to deliver a finishing blow, but he stops short and his eyes widen and then flash whites and oranges as currents of the same color flare around just under the vessel’s skin. 

“I underestimated you,” he laughs lightly. “I’ll be sure to remember that next time.” Amy slumps forward and then his vessel disintegrates into ash with Castiel’s angel blade clanking to the ground. 

Standing behind the remains of Amy’s vessel, is a startled and out of breath Sam Winchester holding Ruby’s knife. He looks around at the four baffled and finally lets his gaze rest on the individual there’s only one version of. “What happened, and how do we fix it because I can barely put up with one Dean as it is.”

One of the Deans gets extremely upset by Sam’s comment while the other two chuckle amongst themselves. Sam’s curiosity is peeked when he finds the three aren’t all behaving the same way, but decides not to push the matter as one already looks like he might possibly use that newly loaded gun on his own brother. What’s more surprising is that Sam’s comment made Castiel smile. It’s not a huge smile by any means, but it’s more than what Sam is used to seeing. He’s not used to seeing the wings either, but Sam’s decided to take this one step at a time. It’s too soon to get too freaked out and it seems that everyone is as good as they can be for this sort of situation. The most important thing to do right now is get the hell out of dodge. Sam doesn’t expect that many civilians are out yet due to the storm that’s starting to break up and he’s thankful for it, but there’s no reason they should push their luck if they can help it.

__________

Sam decides to talk as he ushers their much larger group back to the Impala, and once back in the chapel Castiel has explained the parts where his ‘ _brother_ ,’ Amy, was summoned and caught them off guard. The overly aggressive Dean, which Sam has already started calling ‘Jerk Dean,’ said it wasn’t his fault because Castiel distracted him. One of the other Deans, and the really odd one in Sam’s opinion, told Castiel that he shouldn’t have put himself between them because the curse could have been much worse, and that only led to Castiel saying it was all the more reason to do so. The third one, which has been relatively quiet, finally spoke up saying that he knew Castiel and he had the whole fiasco under control and it’s not that big of a deal. 

Except it is and Sam sees this when all five are outside of the church staring at the Impala. There’s no way Dean or any of the Deans are in any shape to drive, which leaves the driving to Sam. Not only that, but he has to fit three dysfunctional Deans and a winged Castiel into the car. 

Sam’s torn about the seating arrangements, and as much as he hates the idea of getting a face full of feathers, he thinks Castiel sitting in the front will be the best for everyone. “Alright. I know you’re not going to like hearing this Dean, but I really think I need to drive and Cas should sit up front-“

“Like hell I’m sitting in the back!” 

That’s what Sam was afraid about. ‘Jerk Dean’ is probably going to yell about this until he gets his way or until the cops show up and arrest Sam and lock everyone else up for study in some creepy lab somewhere. “Okay. Fine. You’re up front and everyone else is in the back. Is everyone else alright with this?”

One of the Deans shrugs, “I don’t mind sitting in the back as long as everyone else is happy with that.”

Everyone stops and stares at this Dean like he’s grown another head and it’s trying to bud off into yet another, and this Dean pauses unsure of why he’s the center of attention now. “What?”

Sam huffs a laugh at the strange behavior, “Who are you, and how are you a part of my brother?”

A light dawns on Castiel as he has an epiphany to his condition as well as Dean’s. “They’re each parts, different personalities. Each one is a different manifestation of one of Dean’s personalities.” He can see it more clearly now, especially now that he looks closer. Each one even carries himself differently.

Sam raises one of his eyebrows but can’t stop himself from asking, “So, you know which one’s which?”

Castiel points at the first Dean who scowls for being singled out first, “This one is the aggressive side of Dean.” 

Sam nods, “That explains why he always looks like he’s ready for a fight.”

Castiel’s eyes narrow as he thinks about what Sam said, but then shakes his head. “That is a part of it, but it applies to more than just fighting. He’s also bold and strong and even protective.” Castiel still sees how this particular version of Dean didn’t hesitate to shoot at Amy to help him or the fact he was the one who was trying to pry him free from the abomination’s grip. 

Pointing to the next one, who’s standing tall with proud smirk on his face, Castiel continues, “This is his confident side.” He knows this because he was the one who didn’t dive for cover when the fallen angel lunged at Castiel. If Castiel had dodged, Dean would have been killed, but he knew Castiel wouldn’t let that happen. Or maybe he believed that Castiel could have taken Amy out. And yet, he was the first one to try to stop Amy from stabbing him with the angel blade as if he believed he could stop a former angel’s strength on his own.

“Great. So we’ve got ‘Jerk Dean’ and Dean’s ego.” Sam knows there’s more to it and there’s more than Castiel is telling him, but that’s something he’ll ask later when they’re not in the company of quite so many Deans. Or any.

Walking over to the third, Castiel places a hand on Dean’s shoulder who smiles genuinely. It’s one Sam doesn’t see very often. Usually Dean’s smiles are fond, but they almost always look like they’re put there out of habit or purely for the sake of giving one because it’s expected. This one, however, is only when he means it.

It’s unusual for Castiel and Sam to see Dean so unguarded and open, but that’s exactly what they see on the remaining Dean before them. His smile is wide and his arms are outstretched appearing excited to hear Castiel’s thoughts on him, “Alright, Cas. Lay it on me.”

“This is the side of Dean I wish more people could see.” Castiel’s eyes gaze into Dean’s and Dean returns the look exposed in a way Castiel never thought he would see. Without any of Dean’s other traits preventing this expression being out in the open it’s almost too much for Castiel because it’s the side of Dean that he’s never allowed himself to have. “You’re the compassionate side of Dean.” This is the part of Dean that draws Castiel the most. It’s the part that Castiel saw when he went to find him in Hell. Even with all of the taint and evil around and inside him, Dean’s compassion and the way he puts everyone else before himself stood out so strong, so bright that Castiel was able to find him in the darkness. 

Dean’s not an overly affectionate person in the physical sense as he has the tendency to completely separate the physical from the emotional sides, and he has even less tendencies to make a strong emotional attachment to anyone other than family. When he does though, it’s stronger than any other bond Castiel has ever seen even when it isn’t even considered a healthy one. It’s so strong that Castiel was craving to have such a bond for himself and reached out for it when he raised Dean from perdition. Castiel was just a simple soldier then, so he didn’t fully understand you can’t force those sort of bonds, especially one such as that with Dean Winchester, and resulted in the unintentional brand. He didn’t even have a vessel at the time, but Castiel assumes the handprint was meant to show them both the memory of the angel reaching for Dean in a symbol they both could recognize. Castiel always felt ashamed for making such a mark at first, but now something dark wells up inside him at the idea. Something he’s not sure is something that is completely new, or something he’s only now been able to acknowledge.

Sam, already having more than enough of the weird staring thing Castiel and one of his brother’s personalities is currently stuck in, walks around to the driver’s side and opens the door as ‘Jerk Dean,’ the aggressive Dean, gets shotgun. “Okay, Cas. I have to ask… how do you know who each one is? I know I wasn’t there the whole time, but I don’t really think you had enough time to figure out who each one is in such a short time.”

Castiel situates his vessel and his large and cumbersome ‘ _new_ ’ wings in the middle of the back seat the best he can with his wings arched up and wrapped around his front. He’s not sure how to address the question even though he knows the answer. He knows each of these Dean’s very well. They’re all the qualities of Dean Winchester that he loves. 

When Castiel tried to shield Dean from Amy’s unknown spell, he instinctively wrapped his hidden wings around them. He thought it would protect Dean, but he didn’t realize the curse was actually centered on Dean, and ended up inflicting him with the same curse. 

“I’ve been experiencing the same feelings and emotions, so I made the connection.” It’s not a complete lie, but Sam doesn’t need to know the details. It is true that Castiel experienced those same feelings in his confrontation with Amy, but it’s more likely because they were passed on to him from Dean.

Everyone else starts filling in and Castiel gets nervous as two Dean’s sit on both sides and up against his vulnerable wings. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Dean, he simply found out they are very sensitive in this state when Dean’s hands brushed against them the first time. He pulls his wings tighter around him and it doesn’t go unnoticed by either Dean. The compassionate Dean takes great care getting into the car and doing his best to avoid Castiel’s wings and the other, while much quicker, slides in effortlessly and seemingly avoiding them altogether.

Sam cranks the ignition and headlights on and starts driving them back to the motel. The sun has finally set and it seems the storm managed to knock out power on a few blocks, so the start of the drive is in the dark. He makes sure to go the speed limit the entire way because he’s not sure how to explain this group if he got pulled over regardless of how dark it is, and had nothing to do with the person sitting in the passenger seat beside him.

Considering the drive is going to take longer this time around, Sam decides this is as good a time as any to discuss one of the many problems that need to be addressed. “Hey, Cas? Is there any way you can help us out with this curse?” When Castiel doesn’t answer Sam tries to elaborate, “So we can have Dean back to normal,” he huffs a laugh when he hears how impossible that sounds, “or as normal as Dean can be.”

Castiel doesn’t show it on his face but his wings shift and twitch uncomfortably almost as if he was nervous or embarrassed about something. “I knew what you meant. I just… I’m afraid I won’t be much help right now.” The two Deans sitting beside Castiel look at him waiting for him to explain, and Castiel looks down at his hands that he has resting on his lap. “I didn’t escape the curse unscathed either I’m afraid. My grace is too weak. Additionally, Amy is far more powerful than I am and I doubt I could break the curse at my best.”

The Dean on his left smiles and pats Castiel’s shoulder and the one on his right mimics the gesture but pats Castiel’s thigh instead. Castiel is curious as to the similarities and differences between the ways the different Deans are trying to comfort him and how it relates back to the complete Dean.

The Dean in the front seat grumbles, “I didn’t shoot that asshole nearly enough.” Castiel doubts even Sam could make it out, but Castiel can and sees this is how the third one showing concern in his own way.

Sam brakes at a red light and clenches his fingers on the steering wheel a few times. Castiel can see the look of consternation on Sam’s face from the rear view mirror. “So, you’re stuck then?” Sam sighs and starts driving again once the light turns green, “I don’t think we’re all going to fit in the same room and I don’t think it’s a good idea to separate any of… the Deans.”

Dean, the one in the front passenger seat, glares at Sam. “Get to the point, Sam.”

“I think we need to get another motel room, and I think keeping all the cursed people together is the best idea.” There. He said it. Now Sam just needs to convince them it’s a good idea.

The first one to speak up, wasn’t the one Sam was expecting. “I assume you mean to include me as well, Sam?” The angel squirms slightly in his seat when the Dean on his right has his hands brush up against his wings.

Sam, although still bothered by their predicament, can’t help but tease Dean. “Well, I can barely put up with one Dean as it is. Besides, I thought you two had a _more profound bond_.” It has nothing to do with the fact that Sam could really use a drink right now. His head is spinning from the side effects of this hunt, and he can only imagine what the others are going through.

Castiel narrows his eyes at the younger Winchester even though he probably can’t see it. He’s not even sure which part of Sam’s comment bothers him the most, but the worst part of it is that it _bothers_ him. “I don’t think that would be wise. I’m more affected by this than you think.” 

Sam’s eyebrows raise at the anger in Castiel’s voice, “Well then, what do you think we should do? You can’t exactly walk around looking like that. Dean has a better chance of being less inconspicuous than you right now.”

A loud sigh erupts from Castiel and it surprises everyone in the car, Castiel included. “To be perfectly honest, I have no idea.”

The hand on his left shoulder gives a reassuring squeeze, but Castiel is more distracted by the hand that is still on his right wing. He thought it might have been an accident at first, but then he remembered which Dean was to his right and how long that hand has been brushing against his wing. That Dean is _deliberately_ touching his feathers. Castiel wants to push his hand away, but finds himself oddly comforted by the gesture. 

He would normally smite anyone for even thinking about touching his wings. This is different though. This is Dean. In any case, Castiel’s not even sure if Dean knows what he’s doing. That thought immediately disappears when Dean’s fingers grip the feathers between his fingers tightly. A smirk plays on Dean’s face when Castiel whimpers from the rough treatment.

Dean knows _exactly_ what he’s doing.

The others in the car seem to miss the small sound, which Castiel is thankful for, but it does nothing to slow the hand that is greedily carding through the soft feathers. Castiel gives this Dean a warning glare and Dean’s smirk only grows. Castiel shivers as Dean continues running though Castiel’s wing, hitting a more sensitive spot when his hand slips to the underside. 

The one to his left sees Castiel’s wings shake and immediately thinks something is wrong especially since the angel just finished saying the curse was affecting him as well as Dean. “Cas, man, you okay?” Dean tries to look around the fluttering appendages to see his friend’s face and unknowingly lets his hand fall from Castiel’s shoulder to the base of where the wings emerges from underneath the shoulder blade.  
Castiel gasps loudly at the touch and both wings flare out as much as they can in the tight space. His wings hit both Deans in the face and Sam swerves the car startled by the movement. The Dean in the front seat is yelling at Sam to be more careful with his baby as Sam glances worriedly in the rearview mirror to make sure everything is alright. 

Before Sam can ask what happened or Castiel can apologize, the Dean to his right bursts out laughing. “Oh, man! Sorry about that.” He continues laughing as the one on his left starts chuckling as well as he attempts to help Castiel straighten out some of the feathers. 

Clearly annoyed with everyone else in the car, the Dean in the front seat growls, “What the hell is going on back there?”

The laughter has calmed down somewhat, but the Dean on Castiel’s right is still visibly amused, “Nothing to get your _panties_ in a twist.”

Turning around in his seat as much as the seatbelt will allow, the aggressive one glares at the one sitting happily behind him. His glare seems to have no effect on his counterpart, and instead the other winks at him with a huge smile on his face. 

Even with Dean’s apology, Castiel doesn’t know how to talk about what just happened. Even though the one on his right started it, it was the one on his left that caused him to react so violently. He can’t be angry with him though. Unlike the one on his right, he doesn’t believe the one on his left knew what he did. Castiel didn’t have idea how sensitive these wings were either. It’s strange, but Castiel finds he’s self-conscious, almost embarrassed by the matter and decides to pretend the incident didn’t happen.

The way Dean is looking at him from around his left wing tells him that’s not going to happen. Dean doesn’t say anything, however, and twists back into his seat out of Castiel’s sight.

Castiel pulls his wings tighter around and even the Dean in the front seat faces forward again to leave him and the other two alone. The car is back to being quiet, but the silence is heavier now and light rain pattering down with the deep purr of the engine are the only sounds to distract them. 

It’s not distracting enough for Castiel and his thoughts are suddenly all over the place, everything from his poor judgment for allowing this to happen in the first place to his inappropriate reaction just now, how he could have stopped it from happening to how he’s going to fix it, and how all of it comes back to Dean Winchester. Dean Winchester, the Righteous Man. The one Castiel put his faith and trust in time and time again regardless if he agreed with him or not. The one Castiel rebelled against Heaven for. The one who could and has hurt him more than any of his brothers could. The one who made him _feel_.

It’s at that moment, here in this uncomfortable car in a small Midwest town, Castiel finally figures it all out. The reason this happened and the reason it will _continue_ to happen is not because he loves Dean. No. It’s because he’s _in_ love with Dean. Quite possibly from the first moment his grace touched Dean’s soul in Hell. 

This is why his Father loves the humans so much. It’s true they’re flawed, weak, and they harm one another, but the part that had been hidden from him was that they care and love and sacrifice for one another as well. His Father’s love shines through them and he rewards each one deserving with their own heaven. They experience so much more in their short lifetimes than Castiel has experienced in his. _This_ is what Anael was trying to tell him and why Anael didn’t want to return. Now that Castiel sees it for himself, he’s not sure wants to give it up either.

Now that he understands, he’s unsure what to do with the newfound knowledge. When the car finally pulls up to the motel, he wishes that he had more time.

Sam shuts off the ignition and tells everyone to wait in the Impala until he’s sure it’s clear enough for them to go to into their room. Once Sam determines it is safe enough them to walk the five feet to the room he waves the other four to quickly get inside. 

It seems no one understood the ‘quickly’ part of the signal and each one enters the room at a leisurely pace. Sam has no idea how it takes more than a minute to walk five feet, but decides he doesn’t want to wait anymore and starts pushing and pulling everyone into the room. When Sam gets to Castiel he knows he can move Castiel as well as a concrete wall, so he tries to usher the angel in as fast as he can. 

Five minutes. Five whole minutes. It took that long just to get all of them to walk such a small distance. There’s no way Sam is going to try to get them to do anything else. “I’m going to look into getting this curse broken. You think you guys can stay out of trouble?”

All three Deans look at Sam with varying looks on their faces but Sam cuts them all off before they can reply, “Don’t answer that.” This is Dean he’s talking about. Of _course_ he’s going to get in trouble. He _already_ has. What's to stop him from making it worse? “Just stay put and I’ll be back in the morning. Don’t… just don’t.” The younger Winchester grabs his laptop and duffel bag and leaves the room abruptly without looking back.

Castiel didn’t have a chance to argue and know he’s stuck and alone in a room with three different Deans and his new revelation. He walks over to and sits in one of the chairs by the window and watches the soft drizzle of the rain outside as the Deans puts up their varying gear.  
Something tells Castiel it’s going to be a very long night.

__________

Once everything is put away the three Deans all go for a bottle of beer from the six-pack from earlier that day. Castiel hears the bottles clinking and turns to watch, and even with all of their differences, he’s surprised to see they all open their bottle the same way. One holds up his bottle to take a drink just like the other two, but stops when he catches Castiel looking at them. He smiles and grabs the last beer, which causes one Dean to yell at him, and sits in the chair across from Castiel. Dean sets the bottle in front of the angel and waits expectantly.

Castiel is lost at first, and is about to ask what Dean wants until he realizes which one this is. Dean brought him one of his beers for Castiel to drink, and it appears like Dean’s not going to drink his own until Castiel accepts his. Castiel takes the beer but instead of drinking it, he sets it on the table between them and cradles the warm bottle in his hands. 

Dean pops the cap off of Castiel’s beer but doesn’t make to drink his own, “Sorry. They’re better cold. Guess I… um, we forgot to put them back in the fridge this morning.”

Castiel smiles at the gesture, “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean smiles and finally takes a drag from his beer apparently content enough with Castiel’s response. The rest of the room is quiet and Castiel turns to find the other two Deans watching them intently. One glances away and storms off to the other side of the room when he notices he’s been caught, and the other stares between the two at the table before grabbing his duffel and saunters into the bathroom. 

The Dean on the other side of the room looks up from cleaning one of his guns when he hears the spray of the shower turn on and scoffs before returning to his work. He’ll never admit that his eyes may have wandered over in Castiel’s direction more than once. He has to admit one time, however, as his eyes are caught in a mirror reflection of himself and they both see the same thing. Their eyes only break long enough to glance over towards the bathroom where loud singing is now coming from.

Each one may be a different part of Dean, but they all know they’re thinking the same thing. The two outside had no intentions of doing anything on the matter, but both can see the third has other plans. Dean never had any intention of making a move on his friend for what he considered an _ass load_ of reasons, but one of these Deans will have no such reservations. Now the other two almost feel pressured to make the move first. 

One can’t stand the idea of sharing Castiel with anyone else even if it is another version of himself but is too torn to act on it, and one who wants it more than anything else but doesn’t feel deserving of it. But one is sure and assertive enough to actually do it for once and the only disadvantage he has is that he’s not in the room. They all want Castiel, and they each know the others have the same feeling. 

It’s become a race.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I suppose I could keep going on this story, but *shrugs*  
> Anyways, now I can get back to work on Buddy Bizarre, AAWOY, and art commissions.
> 
> Updated/Added more warnings.  
> Also, I would like to point out that I do not consider dom! and bottom! the same thing, so I'm sorry if this bothers anyone else.
> 
> Unbeta'd because you lovely people have waited long enough.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

 

_One can’t stand the idea of sharing Castiel with anyone else even if it is another version of himself but is too torn to act on it, and one who wants it more than anything else but doesn’t feel deserving of it. But one is sure and assertive enough to actually do it for once and the only disadvantage he has is that he’s not in the room. They all want Castiel, and they each know the others have the same feeling._

_It’s become a race._

__________

 

Dean, the one sitting across from Castiel, takes the opportunity to try to monopolize Castiel’s attention as well as see how he’s coping with his side of the curse, “So how come Amy didn’t know you were an angel? He looked pretty pissed when he saw your wings and found out who you were.”

Castiel contemplates as he folds his hands to rest on the table between them, “I’m uncertain, but I think part of it had to do with the wards in the room. I actually didn’t recognize Amy either until his grace flared when he cast the curse. When I put myself between you and Amy, he must have assumed that I was a witch much like his vessel. After the curse was cast, my grace was mostly diminished or used to prevent my vessel from splitting apart like you did.” His wings pull in tighter so the appendages are practically molding as much as they can to Castiel’s back. “It’s easier to spread my grace out rather than divide it into multiple parts completely, so my grace manifested itself to my wings which were already exposed from earlier and settled for a likeness human eyes are familiar with, though I’ve never seen them like this.”

“To be honest, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me at first.” A few things still seem off and Dean tries to push it further to make sure his friend is alright, “So you still have your grace, it’s just weaker?” It’s hard for Dean to focus his attention, however, especially with the way the condensation of the beer is running down the bottle and Castiel’s fingers. Dean stares in confusion a moment remembering that the beer was warm when he handed it to the angel.

Castiel picks up the confusion and reaches a hand out to touch Dean’s beer. When he does, the bottle turns cold in Dean’s hands. “Weaker, yes, but far from helpless.”

Dean seems a little more content with that answer but worry still lines his eyes, “But that’s not the only thing the curse did to you.” It wasn’t a question. This particular Dean picked up on the change almost immediately and, to his credit, was more concerned and focused on this instead of the massive wings. Barely.

A minute of silence looms over the room before Castiel finally chooses to answer and with a fondness in his voice he didn’t know he had, “No. In a sense, the curse affected me just as much as it did you.”

Dean seems lost by this, but his attention is drawn to the loud click of a gun clip being loaded and being slammed down on the table. The other Dean stomps over to the others with his beer in hand, “So you’re tellin’ me… us…” Dean swings his arms in a wide, angry sweep between him and the Dean calmly sitting at the table as he tries to find the right words, “Whatever the hell we are right now, that asshat split you into three different personalities?!” He’s yelling, but he can’t stop it. Dean’s furious at that son of a bitch messed with Castiel in the first place, but to find out the angel’s personality has been tampered with as much as his own is infuriating. He wishes the douchebag was here so he could shoot him in the face again. Repeatedly.

The atmosphere is tense and Castiel stands up from his chair and steps right up to the upset Dean. “Yes, Dean.” Castiel’s voice is a fierce growl and his lip curls in a slight sneer, “ _Your_ personalities.” Castiel’s only telling half the truth though. They might be the same personalities of Dean and were unwillingly passed on to the angel, but all the reactions and feelings are _Castiel’s_. He’s never been exposed to this much raw emotion stirring in his own grace before, and he finds it infuriating that Dean always manages to bring it out regardless of the situation. This time, however, his whole being is overwhelmed by it and to experience this on the same level that Dean does on a daily basis is far more than Castiel can control.

“Yeah, well I bet you find that the most offensive thing in the world, don’t you?” Dean’s back to baiting Castiel with his misplaced anger and it seems to be working judging by Castiel’s rapid mood swing, but no one in the room does anything to stop it. The shower shuts off in the bathroom and the singing has stopped, but everyone is too wrapped up in the dispute to notice.

Castiel’s eyes narrow at the man in front of him and his wings rise in an aggressive display spreading tall and wide with the feathers at the ends curling out, “Don’t presume to know what I think.” His wings are much bigger than the Deans originally thought, and they only stop when the primaries press up against the walls on both sides of the room and the curves or the arch brush against the ceiling.

Both Deans watch the wings unfurl in the same awe they had when they first saw them, both the time in the barn and in the church basement, as if they just were just remembering they were there. Castiel wouldn’t doubt if they had. After composing himself and realizing the possible danger this situation could turn into, the Dean at the table stands and places himself in between the two. Facing Castiel, he places a hand on each of their chests trying to prevent the arguing from escalating too far. He knows his counterpart can’t physically wound Castiel even with his limited grace, but he also knows better than anyone else that he has the tendency to damage with cruel words and harsh statements he never truly means.

Their personalities are different but each one’s strength is exactly identical and is apparent when one Dean tries to push the other out from between him and Castiel. When Dean doesn’t budge from between the two arguing, the other Dean gives up only to resort to what his double was afraid of, “I bet the real reason you’re pissed is because you’re grounded and stuck here, and now that you see how rotten it is you’re regretting siding with us mud monkeys instead of your dick brothers.”

Castiel’s eyes flare in a way as if the Deans can actually see the maelstrom of power that looms inside Jimmy Novak’s former body. The angel’s glad he decided on bringing Jimmy to peace in Heaven after everything he has done and everything he been through, and with the anger that is growing deep within the angel only makes Castiel happy in the sense Jimmy will not have to endure it. Castiel knows it’s taxing enough for a human soul to endure being tied so closely to an angel of the lord, but to add strong emotions, emotions he shouldn’t _even have_ , could quite possibly tear the soul asunder. It would be unintentional, but Castiel would never be able to bear the thought of being the one to cause such a thing. Having made the correct decision brings the angel some comfort at least.

It’s not enough to calm him down completely, however, and Castiel pushes the Dean from between them out of the way with no effort at all and keeps his intense gaze on the other. He knows what Dean is doing. Castiel can see the fear behind his fury. He’s seen it numerous times, and he’s seen how much pain it causes others. Castiel has been on the receiving end of how Dean tries to push everyone he cares about out of the way more than once himself. He knows Dean can’t bear the idea of being emotionally hurt so he’s the one that does the hurting. But that’s the part that sticks out most to Castiel. Dean’s afraid of something Castiel can’t quite see. Does Dean really think Castiel is offended by experiencing emotions the same way Dean does, or is there something greater at risk and Dean is attempting to push Castiel away before he can discern it?

It’s when Dean shifts his weight on his feet and a flash of fear sparks in his eyes that Castiel knows there’s something else. Castiel’s anger is still predominant, but now it’s more due to the fact he doesn’t understand what is troubling the Dean in front of him. He wants to reach out to his mind, but he knows that will only make the hunter more upset. Dean might even panic if he realizes Castiel is actively looking for the cause of alarm. Castiel knows he’s walking into a very delicate situation and has to take this slow if he’s going to get his answer. If he has to continue arguing with Dean so be it.

Castiel knows he’s been quiet for some time now, only staring at the Dean before him full of rage as well as inner turmoil as both Deans are waiting for his response. It’s difficult, but Castiel knows he needs to sooth the violent storm raging inside or fear actually hurting Dean. He’s made that mistake more than once already, and he will do everything in his power to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Castiel is no longer yelling, but each word he says still has a sharp edge, “I’d be lying if I said I never had doubts on your or Sam’s decisions, but I have _never_ regretted my choice. And, if you recall, it was one of my ‘ _brothers’_ that put us in this problem.”

Dean breaks eye contact to look at his feet and grumbles, “I won’t let that son of a bitch touch you ever again if it’s the last thing I do.”

Castiel can sense he’s almost there, almost to the point where he can connect with this Dean and bring the real problem to the forefront because Dean has already reverted back to his overprotective nature instead of lashing out. “No, Dean, that’s enough! I am sick and tired of watching you throw away your life for others like you’re not worth anything!”

Dean looks up sharply at Castiel with hot fury in his eyes, “I’m _not_ worth anything!”

“No, Dean, you’re wrong! You’re _everything_!” The Dean who had been desperately attempting to separate the two even after being pushed away stills, and both Deans stare at Castiel dumbstruck. Castiel hadn’t meant to say that out loud or even in that way, but Dean’s anger had only fueled his own and it slipped of its own accord. He’s still angry, but he can feel other emotions overwhelming him, and rather than trying to take it back he surges forward and slams the Dean in front of him against the nearest wall. Dean grunts at the force and drops his beer bottle spilling its contents to the floor. Before Dean can protest, Castiel crashes his lips against Dean’s just as the third Dean emerges from the bathroom.

“I only left you alone for a couple minutes and I’m missing all the fun?” Dean has left the bathroom choosing to wear only a pair of clean jeans and tosses his wet towel to the bathroom floor.

Castiel pulls away from Dean to glare at the one who just entered only to see that behind the smirk Dean’s wearing is no small amount of disappointment. It’s only a there for a mere seconds and then it’s gone, replaced by an odd twinkle in his eyes and a feeling of playfulness. Castiel finds he’s curious at the quick change in behavior and he’s about to question the large smile that crosses Dean’s face, but he’s cut short when the previously pinned Dean grabs Castiel by the collar of his coat returning the kiss with as much force as the hunter can possibly muster.

Falling rapidly into the kiss, Castiel pushes Dean up against the wall again and pins his hands above his head. The feathers on the arch of his wings start to curl and the large black masses slowly begin wrapping around the two. Dean doesn’t want to give up control so easily and fights Castiel’s grip as he bites and runs his tongue against Castiel’s lower lip begging for entrance. He’s surprised when Castiel’s tongue darts past and along his own. The kiss is rough and frantic, more teeth and tongue rather than lips, and so possessive and demanding it’s as if one is trying to swallow the other whole. Their breaths are heavy and labored, gasping for air whenever there’s a break between them, and both have quickly forgotten their audience and their earlier arguments, converting their rage into pure passion.

Dean expects Castiel’s mouth to taste different, or to be perfectly frank taste like _something_. Instead, it’s his other senses that are affected. Castiel feels like a mix of static electricity and the smell just before a snow, but feels hot under his touch. Dean’s skin is buzzing and he half wonders if it really is some strange electricity flowing from the angel. He still doesn’t want to relinquish any control and his struggles only drive Castiel to delve deeper and explore every part of Dean’s mouth and his grip to become more firm.

There’s still distance between their bodies and Dean doesn’t like it, but uses it to break apart long enough to breathe and whisper gruffly, “Where the hell did you learn to kiss like that?” Castiel snarls at the brief interruption and removes the space by pressing flush up against Dean.

While occupied with the one pressed hard into the wall, Castiel doesn’t notice the freshly showered Dean slide up behind him. Castiel’s wings stiffen and his eyes shoot open when strong, calloused hands rake over Castiel’s exposed feathers mapping out as much of the plumage as they can reach. It’s unlike anything Castiel has ever felt. He knows every language there is including the ones long forgotten and yet, none of them have the right words to describe what he’s experiencing.

On few and rare occasions when he was much younger, Castiel had some difficulty adjusting to the changes in his grace and had his brothers assist him when his wings were unmanageable. His brothers said it was normal for young angels’ grace to flare sporadically, and most of them needed assistance keeping their grace under control. The one time Gabriel helped him, claiming he wanted an excuse to get away from all the family drama, Gabriel called it rather crudely ‘ _angel puberty_.’ It was after that, Castiel was mortified enough to ‘ _groom_ ’ his wings on his own after that.

But this, what Dean’s hands are doing to him, feels so much more different than any of that. A small part of it might be due to his wings being tangible on this plane, but there’s so much more and he doesn’t want it to stop. Not if he can help it. His wings shake under the soft touches and a faint moan escapes his lips. With his eyes open, Castiel sees Dean staring back at him, his eyes dilated and half closed and his lips desperately reaching out for Castiel’s, which is something Castiel is more than willing to give. Just shortly after he crushes his lips back to Dean’s, he feels the same lips pressed against his own ghost across the side of his neck and then part to have a tongue lick a stripe up to his jaw.

Castiel growls against Dean’s lips when one of the hands in his wings slips out and around to Castiel’s chest, slowly sliding all the way down to rest and thumb at his belt buckle. He releases one of his hands from Dean’s wrists to grab at the one now threatening to dip just behind the buckle and tugging at his dress shirt. The new hand stills as if waiting for Castiel’s instruction, for his _permission_ , and is fully aware that he’s going to get it. Sure enough, Castiel releases his grip and flutters his wings to show his desire to have those hands run through them again.

Dean’s hand gingerly slides from its place on Castiel’s stomach to his side, and then to the underside of Castiel’s wing along the soft down feathers on the inside. Castiel has to pause in his attention to the Dean in front of him when the short sparks of pleasure cause him to whimper at the sensations coursing through his remaining grace. He moans loudly against Dean’s mouth and his hips jut forward without permission when he feels nips along one of his wing joints. It’s as if Dean has a connection straight to Castiel’s grace without the barriers that had been there previously.

Castiel feels like he’s on fire right down to his very core, and he can already feel his borrowed body reacting. He rocks his hips experimentally and finds that the Dean in front of him is feeling the same way. Both cry out on one another’s lips when their already half-hard erections press against each other. The feeling is as intense as the sensations he’s feeling in his wings and Castiel is slowly starting to understand why humans, why _Dean_ desires this physical affection so much. It’s _addicting_ and Castiel wants more.

It’s not just them either, the second Dean pushes along Castiel as his hands continue to trace along the soft down feathers. Castiel groans as Dean’s hardening length nudges against Castiel’s leg, and the angel finally releases his hold on Dean’s wrists.

The moment Castiel let go, Dean reaches out and tangles his hands in Castiel’s hair pulling forward for another heated kiss, one more passionate than the ones previously shared. His hands tug lightly on the angel’s hair and he licks and bites everywhere he can reach, and his double does the same and, although, not as rough it’s no less as passionate as the other’s ministrations. Hands and mouths are everywhere as long as skin’s exposed and Castiel’s mind is swimming. He can’t even tell them apart anymore. Castiel’s so lost in the sensations overwhelming him. Castiel snaps back to reality when one of them whispers right next to his ear, “Tell us what you want, _angel_.”

Castiel can assume which one it was considering the teasing nature behind the words, but it doesn’t matter. He knows what he wants, and now he knows Dean is more than willing to give it to him. For once in his entire being Castiel has no objection on taking it.

He even has a few ideas on how he’s going to do it.

Slamming Dean back against the wall for a third time, Castiel quickly pulls off Dean’s overshirts and manages to tear off the hunter’s t-shirt before the man has a chance to react. When he does, his eyes are wide but clouded with want and his breathing is quick and heavy, “Holy shit.”

“There’s nothing holy about what I’m going to do to you, _Dean Winchester_.” It’s said softly, but drips with desire and the deep sound carries in the otherwise quiet room. Castiel doesn’t even know where it came from, if it’s part of the curse or if it’s something from Castiel himself, but it doesn’t matter because the response is worth it. The man behind him shivers and gasps against his shoulder where he was previously sucking a mark, and the eyes of the man in front of him flash with something dark and of complete salacity. Castiel has finally found where he has power over Dean, the stubborn Righteous Man who is determined to do things his way or not at all, but he’s not too lost to know that Dean undoubtedly has the same power over him.

He’s not about to let Dean know that anytime soon, however.

Castiel breaks free from his thoughts and the trance that it held over him when he hears a chair shift by the table he was sitting at previously. Turning his head, Castiel sees the third Dean has taken his previous seat by the window drinking his cold beer with his back to the others occasionally stealing glimpses. And each glimpse is full of longing but muted by what could only be interpreted as dejection.

When everything started happening, the last of the three copies, if they could even be called that, knows that he wasn’t quick enough. In the end though, he tells himself that he’s content that Castiel is happy. A part of him wishes he was the source of Castiel’s euphoria, but Dean doesn’t want to take it away simply because of his own feelings. He keeps telling himself he’s just glad to be a part of it even though it seems pretty fucked up situation, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a _little_ turned on watching them.

Dean tells himself he’s only going to steal one more look, but before he can look away again he’s frozen. His eyes lock with Castiel’s and the look on the angel’s face is downright predatory. If Dean didn’t actually know him, he might have mistaken that for the look of demon eyeing his next victim. He gulps his current mouthful of beer hard as Castiel slowly starts untangling himself from the others. One Dean doesn’t like the fact that Castiel is pulling away from him and tries to pull the angel back against him, but when he realizes it’s a futile effort his eyes shift over in the same direction Castiel’s are. While the other Dean is showing the same expression as Castiel, and it’s then Dean sees that he’s the center of attention causing him to squirm in his chair at the intense scrutiny.

Castiel leans forward and whispers something to one of the Deans who crosses his arms in an annoyed huff, but does nothing to suppress the shivers that rack his body. For as much as what is being said, the Dean sitting at the table is surprised he isn’t able to make any of it out, and yet the other Dean must have caught enough of the conversation because he has that wicked smile on his face again.

Once he’s finished his conversation, Castiel starts walking over to the one sitting alone at the table removing his over coat, seemingly falling away from his wings without any difficulty, as he approaches. He folds the coat in half once and sets it on the table in front of Dean who is watching anxiously, almost expectantly. The same dark look adorns Castiel’s face as he holds his hand out. Dean doesn’t notice his counterparts anymore; the only thing he sees is the angel reaching out for him and wings curled out as if shielding Dean from the outside world. Dark memories he’s tried to block out and only sees in his nightmares try to scratch to the surface but are swept aside by another. This, Castiel waiting for Dean to take his hand, is so familiar. Dean’s chest feels tight and his head is spinning but cannot be blamed on the beer.

It’s just like that day. The time Castiel pulled him out of The Pit. The memory is still fuzzy, but Dean remembers everything was chaotic and fighting could be heard from everywhere and all around but Castiel waited. He would not leave unless Dean willingly took his hand. He was putting his life in danger, but he didn’t simply tear him from the battle. There was something about the angel he couldn’t place. Dean was standing there before this blindingly bright angel of the lord, whose form he cannot but desperately wants to remember, with torturing tools in his hands and covered in blood that may or may have not been his own. And the angel waited for him. Even if it was because Castiel had his orders Dean now knows that, from the very beginning, Castiel _trusted_ him.

The feeling is too much to bear and his heart is racing and his chest aches from the pressure. He’s not sure what to do, so he continues looking at Castiel waiting for the answer. Dean’s always been the one to take care of others, he doesn’t know how to be the one that’s cared for. He’s fought countless demons and monsters without showing any sign of fear, but _this_ , this scares him the living hell out of him.

Just like then, Dean slowly lifts his shaking hand out to Castiel’s and once the two hands connect, Castiel squeezes as if to reassure Dean everything was going to be alright. Castiel reaches his other arm, his right arm, and rests his hand on Dean’s left shoulder. More importantly, on the mark Castiel left behind.

Castiel’s grip tightens, and Dean almost winces at the strength behind it. He pulls Dean close and his wings close behind the hunter, cocooning them in the dark feathers. Castiel leans forward and places a gentle kiss against Dean’s lips, and at the touch all of the tension in Dean fades away. Dean’s eyes slide shut and both push forward this time in a kiss so soft and delicate it makes Castiel’s heart ache. He meant it when he asked Dean why he thought he didn’t deserve to be saved because Castiel could not fathom why a man such as Dean would feel that way, but now he half wonders if part of that means he has to be saved from himself as well. Dean doesn’t believe he deserved to be saved, but what Castiel sees now is that Dean doesn’t believe he deserves to be _loved_. Dean’s self-hate is so destructive to his own well-being that Castiel understands why Sam is such a vital role in Dean’s life. Without Sam, Dean can’t function because the only thing Dean has left is loneliness and hate, and the feelings eat him up inside only leaving an empty shell of a man. And Dean, regardless of what his brother Michael and the others think, is not some shell to be filled in the way that has been predetermined for him.

Dean is and will always be meant to be filled with love.

The passion and lust from earlier still lies under Castiel’s skin, but his desire to give Dean what he needs overrules it. The problem is he’s not sure how. He feels confident that he knows Dean inside and out by now and, in a sense, he does on a physical level. Castiel’s wings wrap closer around them when he establishes what he can do.

Castiel has always known that Dean separates the physical and emotional sides of love, and more often than not finds himself getting hurt when he allows the two to overlap, but Castiel never thought to give Dean a reason to welcome the two together. He’s only surprised that as often as it runs through his mind, he hasn’t done anything to change this. Castiel doesn’t actually feel that Dean needs to change himself in any way to make him better, he just wants Dean to be happy because for as much Dean has done, he _deserves_ it. Finding himself staring into those piercing green eyes again, Castiel allows his wings to open up into the room and leads the two of them to the bedside.

Dean blinks several times, letting his eyes adjust to the light of the room and willingly allows Castiel to pull him along. He hears movement behind him and when he turns to find out what it is he sees one of his shirtless doubles sitting in his chair and, much to his annoyance, drinking his beer. Before he can say anything about it, the ground is swept up from under him and is suddenly staring the ceiling. A quick moment later, and he’s staring up at Castiel.

At some point in that short time frame, Castiel has managed to remove his suit jacket and his tie dangles loosely along the side of Dean’s face. The large black wings flare out and high above them in what Dean can only assume is a rather aggressive manner. Dean’s not sure if he wants to grab Castiel’s tie and pull him in for a kiss or run his hands through those large and hypnotizing wings just as the others had not that long ago. Castiel seems to make the choice for Dean though and he leans in, pushing the two of them flush against one another and claims Dean’s mouth with his own. It’s much rougher this time, but still holds the same warmth as the one shared previously and Dean instantly melts into it. _This_ is something he knows about well.

To Dean’s surprise, Castiel is being far more gentle than he was earlier with the others. He’s taking his time running his hands up and down Dean’s arms and then the flanks of his sides. Tender kisses are lightly pressed on every inch of Dean’s skin he can reach. Gentle caresses when Castiel cups Dean’s face to kiss Dean’s lips and card through Dean’s hair. Dean’s skin is humming, every nerve in his body is pulsing at the attention and he finds it hard to believe that his body is reacting this way even though he’s the most dressed person in the room. Remembering there’s other people in the room Dean turns his head and catches himself staring back at him from the other bed. And he’s watching not with jealousy or any form of malice, but with a smirk and eyed clouded with lust. Not only that, but he licks his lips as he’s watching and eyeing them _both_.

Dean would be laughing at the idea that he might have been more literal than he originally thought when he told Sam ‘he was so hot he’d do himself.’ That is, if Castiel and his heavenly lips weren’t so distracting. Instead, Dean finds himself too wrapped up in the angel to care.

Castiel starts removing Dean’s shirts gingerly while continuing to focus his attention to the tanned skin of the man underneath him. He only breaks apart long enough to pull the remaining shirt over Dean’s head, leaving Dean in the same state of attire as the others. When he does, he sees Dean waiting expectantly, his eyes half lidded, and his lips parted just slightly with a faint sheen when he licks his tongue across them. Castiel has never seen Dean look like this, which Castiel finds a shame. Dean looks so open, so vulnerable, and so _trusting_ and Castiel thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Even in this situation, Castiel knows not to say anything Dean, for whatever reasons are only known to Dean, because he will take offense to it. He doesn’t understand why, out of all of His Father’s creations he’s never seen anything quite so beautiful as Dean. He’s been through so much, and yet his soul shines so bright and so fierce sometimes it’s almost blinding and far more brilliant than that of any angel’s grace.

He realizes he was lost in his thoughts again when Dean starts to shift uncomfortably underneath him. Castiel knows this is not the time to think. That in itself has kept Castiel from Dean long enough.

Castiel begins trailing kisses over every inch of newly exposed skin, and Dean gasps at feather light touches. When Castiel gets to one of Dean’s nipples he feels the man below him freeze, gasping a short breath at the sensation. Wanting a repeat of the reaction Castiel’s tongue darts out against the tender flesh, and instead he’s rewarded with the sound of the low rumble of a moan and hands rushing to grip at Castiel’s hair. Now, Castiel has now made it his mission to find out every part of Dean that makes him react this way. Although he wants to spend more time eliciting those wonderful sounds, Castiel wants to find and explore different areas and possibly find an even more sensitive area.

Dean watches eagerly as Castiel brings his left hand in his own, and then he wriggles nervously as Castiel brings them to his face where he can kiss the back of Dean’s. Movement can be heard throughout the room, but Castiel’s attention is on the Dean in front of him. He can tell everyone’s sudden unease at the gesture of affection, so before any of them can comment on it Castiel brings two of Dean’s fingers into his mouth and slowly circles his tongue around them.

An entirely new look of want and surprise crosses Dean’s face, and Castiel finds that he likes that expression far more than he should. Jimmy’s clothes now feel like they are suffocating him and Castiel wants them off to join the pile of Dean’s clothing. He continues sucking on the digits in his mouth as he fumbles his way out of the tie and slides it from his dress shirt’s collar. Even with Dean’s fingers in his mouth, it’s not enough for him and he wants to touch more.

Leaning in close, Castiel holds Dean’s eyes with his own as if it is a challenge. He can sense the other man is intimidated but he doesn’t look away. Then again, Castiel knows it wouldn’t be Dean if he did. Maintaining eye contact, Castiel whispers in a voice so deep Dean half wonders if he’s the one shaking or the room is from a hint of Castiel’s true voice coming through, “Remove my shirt, Dean.” Dean doesn’t care either way and quickly scrambles with the buttons of the shirt.

With Dean preoccupied and Castiel’s hands free again, the angel starts sliding his hands all over Dean again. When Castiel shifts his hips to balance his weight better, however, Dean’s hands lock up and grip tight in Castiel’s shirt and moans loudly. And Castiel _definitely_ wants to hear that again. He rocks his hips again and this time the angle causes an intense pleasure to reverberate throughout his body and, from the sounds of it, through Dean’s as well. Dean is still struggling with Castiel’s shirt when Castiel is digging his fingers under the hemlines of Dean’s pants. Finally getting the buttons of the shirt undone, a few sent across the room when Dean momentarily lost control of his hands, Dean groans at the idea of having to pull Castiel’s hand away long enough to get the shirt off not to mention the undershirt.

Castiel is also hesitant about putting space between them again, but Dean’s own frustration and, curiously enough, his arousal at the same problem lets Castiel maintain his composure. He knows he can just will the offending garments away even with his grace being diminished as much as it is, but he’s also finding enjoyment in the removing of each other’s clothing. For such a carnal act, it’s strangely also very intimate and Castiel every intimate experience with Dean that he can get.

In a quick rush, because even though he is enjoying the removal of their clothes there’s only so much patience he has left at this point, Castiel has discarded both shirts off behind him and immediately goes back to the waistband of Dean’s pants. He deftly unbuttons and downs the fly with a grace he lacked when removing his tie, and he can sense three pairs of eyes on him as he lowers himself to lick and bite at Dean’s hip bones.

Dean’s hips jut up trying to get some kind of friction, but when he does Castiel takes the opportunity to remove his jeans in one swift pull. Before the pants can hit the floor, Castiel’s mouth is back on Dean and, catching it in his teeth, he snaps the elastic of Dean’s boxer briefs against the hunter causing him to jump. Castiel is glad for the momentary distractions as it gives him time to think about what he can do next.

“Do you remember what you told me at Bobby’s when I told you my brothers didn’t think you brave enough to be Michael’s vessel?” Castiel isn’t sure where this is all suddenly coming from, but he can’t stop the words from spilling from his mouth.

Dean just stares at Castiel in confusion, unsure why he would bring something like that up at a time like this until it hits him. He remembers _exactly_ what he said, but he didn’t mean it. It was supposed to be an insult and nothing more. Given his current situation, however, maybe that wasn’t _completely_ true.

When the realization hits Dean, Castiel can’t help the small smile trying to make its way on his face, “I didn’t understand what you meant when you said it, but I’m fairly confident I understand it now.” Before Dean can reply, Castiel pulls down the last piece of clothing and runs his tongue along the underside of Dean’s cock before he wraps his lips around the head. With one last look up at Dean, Castiel swallows as much as he can.

To Dean’s surprise, and absolute pleasure, it turns out to be entirely. The angel doesn’t seem to use or need a gag reflex. Dean cries out at the warm, wet mouth around him, and that mouth is swallowing him like his life depended on it. His eyes fall closed, and he focuses on the sensations of Castiel running his hands along Dean’s thighs and under the bottom hem of where his boxer briefs still hang from below his hips. At the soft touches on his legs and the mind blowing suction going on between them, Dean’s legs spread wider and fall to lie the bed.

Castiel growls at the submission and Dean’s back arches against the bed and cries out at the vibrations. The two large wings flap twice proudly before lowering back down to rest on the mattress. Dean doesn’t like that he missed his chance to run his hands through the ink colored plumage, and can’t help but wonder why Castiel put them so far out of reach when he clearly likes having them touched. His question is answered when the bed off to his right side dips and Dean sees that one of the other Deans has moved to join them. Guessing by the smirk on his face, he’s pretty sure he knows which one. He watches the more confident version of himself cant his face down towards his own, but his attention is pulled away when Castiel swirls his tongue around. Dean moans again, and the other Dean takes the opportunity to crash their lips together taking advantage of Dean’s open mouth to drive his tongue in.

Dean’s eyes go wide, unsure how to react but he groans in disappointment when he feels Castiel pull away and he shivers when the warmth of Castiel’s body almost disappears completely. He wants to find out why Castiel has moved away, if the other Dean went too far, but when he catches sight of the angel it’s too much. The other Dean is refusing to let go, letting his teeth pull on the Dean’s bottom lip, one hand tangle in Dean’s hair and the other runs along his chest. Castiel seems wholly transfixed on the two, his eyes dark and hands tightly clutching the sheets below them.

Castiel reaches forward and removes Dean’s shorts the rest of the way and discards them to the side with his hands trailing up Dean’s legs when they return. One hand shifts to the other Dean and runs his hands in the same way, giving them each the same treatment. Castiel crawls up against the two of them and as much as he enjoys the sight, he finds he would much rather be the one kissing those plush lips and tugging that short, spikey hair. He wants those hands back on his skin, his wings.

So that’s what Castiel decides he wants.

He rips the two away from each other, startling them both, and Castiel presses them hard into the bed. Castiel straddles the naked man and pulls the other in to lick along his jaw. His wings flap once, happy that Castiel is back to participating. He grinds his hips on the man below, and Dean hisses at the rough drag of wool and the fly rubbing against his sensitive erection.

Dean’s pleased to feel Castiel as hard as he is, but wishes he can have skin against skin. He wants to know Castiel is burning just as hot as he is. When he reaches to undo Castiel’s pants and give them both the relief they are desperately craving, Castiel bites the other Dean’s neck hard and grabs Dean’s _helpful hands_ and pins them above his head with a growl. Dean’s not sure if it’s due to being in a hostile work environment that he is in or it’s simply some secret fetish of Dean’s that Castiel has brought to the surface, but Dean finds himself loving the rough and possessive-like treatment the angel is giving him. Even without most of his powers, Castiel is a force to be reckoned with.

The angel has returned to attacking the neck of the Dean not pinned between him and the mattress. Dark bruises of bites and suck marks are already starting to bloom and Dean keens at the feeling. His skin is burning hot and the only balm that can soothe it is Castiel’s mouth. As cheesy as he thinks it is Dean feels like he’s in Heaven. There’s no war, no monsters or demons to fight, and most importantly he doesn’t have to worry about the care and safety of his brother right now. Everything that matters, in this one blissful moment, is in this room. Eyeing the dark plumage, the desire to run his hands through them again is too strong and once they flutter within reach of his hands, they dive into the silky feathers squeezing every time Castiel makes a new mark.

When his wings are being touched again, Castiel makes a sound Dean could only attribute to purring. It’s as if is a direct connection to his vessel’s body, most notably to his vessel’s midsection, and Castiel grinds his hips down against Dean’s every time the other Dean grips his feathers. Even with all the delicious sensations coursing through his veins, Castiel’s body is still screaming for more. It’s been twice now that Dean has gone to remove Jimmy’s dress pants and now he’s starting to think that might be part of what he needs.

Castiel gradually loosens his hold and releases his hands from Dean’s wrists so delicately Dean doesn’t immediately notice he’s been freed. Both Deans whine at the lack of contact, but the disappointment fades quickly when they see Castiel’s hands work the button of his pants.

The Dean on the bed still moderately dressed leans forward, but doesn’t make any other move to touch Castiel, “Cas.” It’s the first thing that had been said for a while and it booms in the quiet room even at a breathless whisper. It sounds so needy that Castiel has to look up and pause in his efforts. That seems to be the only indication Castiel gives to continue and Dean is hovering as close as he can. His lips and hands ghost over the hairs of Castiel’s skin, but he still doesn’t touch. “Cas,” he repeats more softly than before, “Can I?” Dean’s hands hang closely by Castiel’s, which are still holding the zipper fastener when he stopped.

Castiel’s hands drift away and Dean licks his lips at the sight. Rather than use his hands he’s thought of something better, something that will drive the angel mad. He bends over and nuzzles Castiel’s hard length through the stiff wool before he takes the metal fastener between his teeth and lightly tugs it down. Dean gets his desired response, Castiel’s breath hitches and his cock twitches with great interest in their confines. Castiel’s feathers even start to curl out more wildly. Dean has to shift his weight on his arms to pull the zipper down the rest of the way, and when his chin bumps against hard flesh he remembers that Castiel is still straddling one of his doubles.

The warm body below him shivers and Dean smiles. He knows it must be quite a view for Castiel. One Dean is lying there completely naked under him and the other is gleaming up at him from his place between the two not even attempting to hide his desire. Dean doesn’t move his head away and his twin squirms and gasps under him when he sticks out his tongue to run along the inside of his doppelganger’s inner thigh, and he never holds eye contact with Castiel as long as he can from the awkward angle. Just when he thinks Castiel has had his fill with simply watching, Dean’s hands reach up to finally drag his pants down purposely making sure his hands brush along Castiel’s throbbing cock in the process.

Both Deans stare with an equal amount of lust at Castiel. Even though Castiel still has dark boxer briefs on, not much is left to the imagination. His vessel is lean, but fit and far more endowed than Dean thought the man would be. Castiel sure picked a winner in Dean’s book. It would normally bother him and intimidate his masculinity at this, not to mention a few million other things, but it doesn’t. He doesn’t know if it’s due to the curse and if they lack that part of Dean’s personality or not, but the two on the bed don’t see any of this. If anything it’s a perk, but it’s not Castiel. Castiel is the light shining bright behind those eyes. He’s the dark wings stretched out above them. He’s the angel who sees Dean as more than a pretty face with dark secrets and a crappy job that puts him in danger every day of his life. Dean realizes that when Castiel was staring at him all those times, he was seeing more than the exterior. He was seeing _Dean_.

And, for the first time, Dean thinks he’s starting to see it in Castiel too.

Castiel warms at the silent adulation, unaware of the revelations that are coming to light for Dean. He grinds against Dean again and it’s much better this time, the pull of the soft and slightly damp cotton over their skin in addition to the heat radiating around them. Enjoying the rhythmic movements against each other and the pleasured sounds coming from Dean, Castiel momentarily forgot about the other until he felt a hand slide alongside his thigh and someone nipping at the elastic band of his shorts.

Castiel finds it curious that this Dean seems very fixated on doing everything with his mouth, though he doesn’t find it surprising as he has always gotten in plenty of trouble with it. Dean is still looking up at Castiel and the angel can see the pleading in his eyes, and Castiel can tell Dean is looking for a different kind of trouble right now.

When Castiel makes no effort to stop Dean, he quickly starts pulling the last layer of Castiel’s clothing before the angel changes his mind. Dean groans as he pulls the shorts down and Castiel hisses as his erection springs free and into the cold air. Castiel assumes the air is cold, but he knows his body feels hotter than it felt when he flew to Hell. But this is perfect, it’s not the agony and the horrors he felt when he went to save Dean. He can only describe it as being the best of both Heaven and Hell. Everything is supposed to be perfect and good in Heaven but it’s meant to be muted and emotionless for angels, whereas everything is dark and intensified a thousand fold in Hell. Here he feels the wondrous feelings of pleasure and happiness of Heaven at the warmth and burning intensity of Hell.

He thought he was blistering hot now, but it compared nothing to the almost scalding hot mouth wrapping around him. Dean’s tongue swirls around the head of Castiel’s cock, moaning as if he was pleasuring himself. Castiel’s wings shake and he cries out. He can’t help but watch as Dean bobs his mouth up and down the shaft, taking more in each time. When he catches the expression of the other below him, he’s shocked and almost pleased at the jealous expression that lies there.

As enjoyable as this is, this is not what Castiel wants. He wants to take care of Dean and not the other way around. Dean whines when Castiel pulls him away, his tongue darting out in hopes to catch one last taste.

“No.” Castiel’s voice is firm and it rattles both men in front of him. “I’m going to take care of _you_.”

Relief washes over both Deans’ faces and Castiel realizes how that must have come off to them. They thought it was rejection, which is so far from the truth. Castiel will give Dean everything, he _wants_ to give Dean everything.

After discarding his shorts, Castiel goes for the remaining Dean’s fly. Dean’s smile is large and Castiel can tell he’s proud of himself for something, but it’s nothing what Castiel expects. A flash of pink catches his eye, and has apparently caught the eye of the Dean at the table, “You son of a bitch. Really?”

The anger seems to fly right past the other Dean, however. Although responding to his rather upset counterpart, Dean stares directly into Castiel’s eyes, “Oh, come off it. You know just as well as I do that you _like_ it.” His voice drops to a whisper, but still loud enough to carry over to be heard, “I think Cas likes it too.”

Castiel is definitely curious at least, and his fingers toy with the pink cloth exposed from under Dean’s pants. Dean must have put them on after his shower, where or why he has them or even why he is wearing them, Castiel has no idea. But then again, Castiel doesn’t understand many things about what humans do or wear. Slipping the jeans halfway past Dean’s hips, Castiel gets a better look at what appear to be a pair of women’s satin panties. To Castiel, they might not appear to be practical but are pleasing enough to look at, much more than the ones Jimmy and the other Deans wear, but what really attracts him is the smooth texture. It’s so soft against his skin, and he absently wonders what it would feel like to wear them himself.

Dean sucks in a quick breath as Castiel brushes his fingers against the cloth, and he makes to fully remove his pants. When he does, he feels Castiel’s eyes boring into his skin. Dean’s been so hard for so long it’s such a relief to finally be free of the jeans. He’s straining against the bikini cut panties so much that when the pants are off, the head of his cock slides up past the top of the waist band and it feels amazing. The front is slightly damp from pre-come, but Dean doesn’t even seem to notice or care. Castiel tangles his fingers in the slim elastic band on the sides as the pads of his thumbs come forward to rub over the front of the fabric. While not the most fitting of undergarments, mostly due to the fabric itself, Castiel thinks it fits Dean well and assumes if he could see the back it fits in all the right places. His hands slowly make their way around and Castiel gently kneads the flesh of Dean’s ass through the fabric causing Dean’s head to fall back in a loud moan.

The Dean at the table makes a loud, disapproving noise, and Castiel doesn’t want to divert his attention so his head turns only a bit to acknowledge the behavior. “Dean,” Castiel warns, “I thought we had an agreement. That is, unless you changed your mind.”

The silence is enough for Castiel and resumes his study and the feel of Dean and his panties. But Castiel knows he’s getting distracted again. He looks down and over his shoulder at the Dean still lying on the bed, and he sees his staring very intently at Castiel’s hands and the strange underwear the other Dean has chosen to wear. This Dean gulps when he notices Castiel watching him, and he gasps when Castiel moves to sit in between his legs rather than straddling them. Leaning over Dean, he finally slots their two erections against one another both. He had _no idea_ there would be such a huge difference in feeling. Both moan when Castiel grinds down, and Castiel’s left wing reaches out and around to bring the other Dean in. He seems to pick up on what Castiel wants and he wraps his hand around Castiel and his double’s cocks, but pulls away when he realizes he doesn’t have any lubrication.

Castiel isn’t at all pleased that Dean pulled his hand away so quickly and is nearly about to yell at him for doing so until Dean speaks up, “Need lube, Cas.”

The angel pulls back to some of his senses and recalls hearing and seeing a good amount of information regarding this sort of sexual endeavor, namely early Greece, and decides they’ve waited long enough. He’s going to skip past a lot of unpleasantness and get back to having Dean make those delicious sounds again. Castiel starts to reach a hand out, but halfway he pulls it back and instead presses a light kiss against the lips of the Dean below him. The bed jostles as both Deans on the bed jump and a loud bang at the table indicates that one jumped as well.

When Castiel pulls back he’s staring at wide, green eyes a mixture of confusion and panic, “Cas! Cas, did you just give me… give _us_ an angel enema?”

The confusion carries over to Castiel, “I thought it would be easier and more comfortable for you this way.”

The Dean kneeling to his left speaks up this time, “I’m not complaining, that’s a pretty handy trick. Plus, it means we can have a lot more fun.” He pops the top off of a bottle that has seemingly appeared out of nowhere and doesn’t even question it, “Just give a guy a little warning next time?”

Castiel would be embarrassed by his eagerness, but he’s still far too lust driven and is desperate to please Dean. His hips push against Dean’s and he leans down to suck a mark on Dean’s pulse point. A slick hand is sliding between the two of them and grasping their hard lengths together causing Dean to arch his back and cry out and Castiel growls into Dean’s skin and his wings flare around them.

Finally having Castiel’s wings back within reach, the Dean lying beneath Castiel reaches out to grasp the silky feathers and Castiel hums against his mouth in satisfaction. Dean’s surprised at how they feel under his fingers. He was expecting them to feel like, well, _feathers_. It turns out he can’t describe the sensation on his skin but the closest thing he can compare it to is that it feels like a mix of wisps of the softest silks and satins and the feeling of sun rays beaming down against your skin on a cool day. But there’s more to it too. There’s also a warmth that runs much deeper than the physical touches. The same kind of warmth Dean has never allowed himself to have because he’s afraid it would break him if he ever lost it… or was it because he never deserved it in the first place? Dean’s always known he can never have this feeling, this warmth and something he’s far too afraid to mention, but now that he’s finally able to admit it to himself, he can’t remember _why_.

Dean’s whole body feels light and warm as he continues running his hands along the plumage and his brain stops caring on the whys and the hows and everything other than this feeling that he doesn’t want to let go. So wrapped up in the feelings, he misses when Castiel and  the other Dean have a brief exchange. He doesn’t miss when Castiel’s heat pulls away from him to lower back between Dean’s legs again. Dean lets out a small whimper, though he will never admit it, but doesn’t have a chance to do anything more before Castiel lifts his legs and hooks them over Castiel’s shoulders. His double kneels above his chest while facing away leaving Dean’s view of Castiel blocked by his own backside and the pink, satin cloth already running dangerously low.

Despite the fact that Dean finally has a warm body pressing up against him again, it’s not the same glorious heat it was moments before and he tries to buck his double off and at least try to see what the two are up to. The man above him doesn’t budge and he feels four strong arms shifting and readjusting Dean’s body. As much as he’s trying to make everyone happy, he’s unsure about how comfortable he is with the position and the lack of control he has in it.

He feels so exposed and the feeling intensifies when he looks over at the angry version of himself sitting at the table. Except, he’s not angry, in fact he looks far from it. His eyes are wide, but dark and his breathing is heavy as he’s clearly watching what’s happening out of the pinned Dean’s vision.

Dean sends a questioning look at the man sitting at the table, and realizing he’s not going to get his attention any time soon decides to speak up, “What-”

A loud gasp immediately followed by an even louder moan cuts Dean’s question short and all of his thoughts are overrun by the sudden racks of pleasure coursing through him. He’s managed to grab the other’s attention briefly, but has lost any the ability to think let alone speak. Dean goes to grip the bed sheets, and forgetting the person kneeling above him he finds himself grabbing at firm calves instead.

During Dean’s internal dilemma, the other Dean on the bed has shifted the legs resting on Castiel’s shoulders into his grip. As he grasps the back of Dean’s knees in his hands, he pulls the man below him forward causing the hips below to lift off the bed. Castiel then takes the opportunity to bask in the sight in front of him and his ability to move more freely. It puts him in a slightly uncomfortable position as he pushes two fingers against Dean’s lips at the same time he swirls his tongue against the other’s sensitive entrance, but Castiel knows it’s worth it by the looks and sounds he’s getting from the other three.

Castiel’s tongue swirls around the tight hole and against it but not quite pushing in as Dean’s mouth opens and greedily sucks in the digits into his mouth. Dean’s tongue works lewdly around Castiel’s fingers and occasionally darts out to lick at the webbing between them. Castiel focuses completely on what Dean’s tongue is doing and attempts to mimic the motions. When Dean’s tongue laps at the webbing between Castiel’s fingers again, Castiel finally presses his own tongue inside. Judging by the sounds from the more prone Dean, Castiel’s deciding that he must be doing something right at least.

A grumble sounds from over by the table, “Virgin my ass.”

Pulling away from the two Deans on the bed, not missing the whimpers as he does so, Castiel looks over to the third. Dean’s eyes are still dark and Castiel can tell the man is very much aroused, but he can see he’s also annoyed by something. He’s also rubbing at his knee indicating that he must have bumped it against the table earlier when Castiel thought he was being helpful.

Castiel wants to comment on the exact phrasing Dean chose to use, but he recognizes the intended meaning behind it before he does, “Just because I’m inexperienced doesn’t mean I’m _ignorant_.” He finally removes his finers from Dean’s mouth and runs them down to rub against one of the nipples of the Dean kneeling in front of him. “I might not understand why you humans do the things you do, but I might even go as far as to say that I know a great deal of what humans do more than even you.”

Every Dean in the room gasps loudly at that, “Fuck.”

“That is my intention, yes.” Castiel actually smirks at his own comment, especially when it only seems to heighten the arousal of the others.

However, the Dean lying pressed into the mattress can’t help but think of the future Castiel and how dangerously close Castiel seems to be to that right now. He fears _this_ could be what leads up to the angel’s downfall. He tries to break free, to stop what they are doing before Dean ruins Castiel any more than he already has. Castiel doesn’t deserve this. He deserves better. Far better than anything Dean can possibly offer him, and as much as it hurts him to do so, he decides he has to make this stop.

The one above him seems to be having similar thoughts, but has come to the opposite conclusion and even goes as far as sitting on his chest to keep him from getting away. “You’re thinking about it too, aren’t you? 2014?” He looks back over his shoulder as much as can to let him know exactly who he is talking to.

The Dean being addressed doesn’t answer but after a moment he nods his head, which signals Dean to continue.  “So you’re going to give him a taste and then leave him hanging? Who’s to say he won’t get his fix somewhere else? Maybe _denying_ him is what causes it to happen.”

That response seems to send pause to the hesitant one. He doesn’t want to admit it, but the other Dean has a valid point, but it doesn’t change the fact Dean wants Castiel to have better.

Castiel pauses unsure of the conversation that’s happening between the two, but he doesn’t say anything to interrupt them. “You mean to tell me you’d rather give him to all those strangers than be with him?”

At that, Castiel actually looks hurt. He still has no idea what they are talking about and he decides he doesn’t like it at all. He doesn’t want to be with anyone else. He wants to be with _Dean_.

“Don’t you think he deserves better than that?” If he’s honest with himself, this Dean is also bothered by the thought of Castiel with all those other people instead of him. He’s starting to find it difficult where the line each one of them differentiates from one another, but is something to file away for later. Right now he just wants nothing more than to fuck or be fucked by the angel.

“Of course he does!” It’s the loudest and angriest anyone has seen this Dean been since Dean was hit by the curse and it takes everyone by surprise including the Dean sitting alone by the window.

The surprise on confident Dean is quickly replaced by that sly smile again, “Then you agree that Cas deserves whatever he wants, right? You’d give him anything you can to make him happy?”

Still relatively upset about the earlier comment, Dean blurts out before he can think about it, “Of course!”

Dean lifts himself off the other and spins around to look at the other directly, “Then what’s the problem?”

Castiel finally sees this Dean is having his earlier difficulties in feeling _worthy enough_ and he’s going to take this Dean first to show him how wrong Dean is. It’s exactly the reason why Castiel is focusing on this Dean first. He won’t say it out loud now, as it could only further the problem, but he makes a promise of it to say it to Dean after this curse has been taken care of. For now he only whispers it to himself, “It’s time you’ve been put first for once.”

He needs a different tactic for their current delay if they are going to continue, and Castiel knows all four of them are starting to get uncomfortable with their arousals, “Dean I don’t particularly care for how you can’t seem to make up your mind.” Castiel allows his wings to flare and show Dean his obvious irritation,“Do I have to make the decision for you?”

Seeing that his tie hasn’t gotten too far away from them, Castiel grabs it and runs it through his hands. He catches both of the Deans in front of him eyeing the cloth with two different expressions. Castiel’s come to what he believes is the best and easiest choice. It’s risky too, of course, but it’s well past the time someone put their foot down. “Nevermind.”

Castiel finds some twisted satisfaction at the looks he receives when he pulls away. When the Dean lying down makes to sit up and apologize, Castiel reaches out with one hand and pushes Dean roughly back down. “Let me finish, Dean.”

All eyes are on Castiel as he leans down close to whisper to the one he is holding down. His voice is quiet, but so deep and heavy it almost reverberates in Dean’s bones, “I’ve decided that’s _exactly_ what I’m going to do.”

Dean’s confused, until he sees a smirk playing across the features of the double sitting next to him and the widening eyes of the third. Castiel has decided that Dean no longer has a say in the matter, and rather than scare him something about that makes his whole body shiver in something much different than fear. He even feels the warmth of the excitement coming back and his erection is definitely back to being completely hard. Glancing at the silk panties sitting next to him, he sees he isn’t the only one.

Castiel hands the blue tie off to the one sitting next to him, and makes sure to watch each reaction as he orders, “Tie him up.” To his surprise, the one not on the bed seems the most eager at that.

Dean does as he’s told and ties the other to the bedpost of the motel bed the best he can and he’s pretty confident that he’s not going anywhere. Sure enough, when Dean tries to pull his hands away from the bedpost his hands barely budge.

Seeing the bound Dean’s eyes looking pleadingly at Castiel and then his wings, Castiel brings his left wing close and brushes the feathers against Dean’s skin, “Maybe if you behave later, I’ll let you touch them again.” It catches Castiel off guard when Dean sends him one of those rare genuine smiles again and almost feels guilty when he quickly wipes it away into a heated shock when he continues, “You know, you’re not the only one who promised to be good. Why do you think he’s sitting at the table?” Castiel nips at Dean’s ear, licking the shell of it and pulling it between his teeth. “Do you want to know what I promised him?”

Wings shake as the other Dean’s hands have started running through them again, and the Dean tied down is too preoccupied to be jealous, “Yes. Cas, please.” He’s so hard now it’s started to hurt and Dean doesn’t think he can take much more.

Luckily for him, Castiel is feeling the same way. But before he pulls away, Castiel places a kiss on Dean’s cheek and whispers, “I said I’d let him fuck me after he watches me have my way with the both of you.”

Dean bites his lip hard to keep from moaning, but it does nothing to stop the arching his back does. He hears a click or a lid popping and hears Castiel talking to the other Dean, “And as for you… I’m certain you remember what we discussed.”

The other Dean doesn’t even respond, he just leans down and roughly kisses the man bound to the bed with as much force as he can muster. It’s almost too rough, and the stubble from both faces and the teeth pressing hard against their lips is even a little painful. As it turns out, that was the point. It was a distraction for what was coming and it works so well that Dean hardly notices a slick finger pushing inside him. Dean’s fairly certain that Castiel has to be using some of his grace to ease the pain as well, however. He’s incredibly thankful though and aside from a strange initial discomfort it’s not that bad. It’s actually quite pleasant and he finds himself rocking back against what already appears to be three very slick fingers.

He tries to figure out how the hell that happened so quickly, but the question dies when the feeling gets even better when Castiel’s fingers curl just right and brushes up against what Dean can only assume is his prostate. Moans are swallowed by the man plundering his mouth and the moans turn to cries when a very familiar hand winds down and strokes his erection. Even with all the careful attention, Dean found himself getting soft at the discomfort, but now that all he can feel is pleasure and heat from the two bodies pushed against him he’s gotten completely hard again. Now if they could just finish what they start instead of all this teasing, it could easily attribute to at least on his top five best lays list. The way things are going, Castiel may take one through three by the end of the night. Something tells him they’re just getting started though.

His double straddles his chest again facing him this time as Castiel removes his fingers. Dean‘s hips try to follow but the weight above him and his tied hands cut his efforts short. Dean tenses when he feels something much bigger than three fingers press up against his entrance, and Castiel must have picked up on this and felt a little sorry for him as the large primaries of his left wing brush up to Dean’s hands and well within his grasp. Dean clings to them like a lifeline and lets the warmth wash over him again, soaking in it as much as he can without drowning in it.

Castiel’s obviously cheating with his grace because when he slowly pushes the head of his cock past the rim, it barely registers to Dean. He’s going so slow like he’s afraid Dean’s going to break and Dean wants to wrap his legs around Castiel and pull him in, but this is how Cas wants to do it. After he pushes a little further in, Castiel stops and pulls out a before pushing back inside. Dean _definitely_ feels that. The way Castiel’s cock head catches on the rim of his entrance and the way he pushes back in a little harder makes Dean’s eyes roll and his head press hard into the pillow.

His double takes full advantage of this and goes back to kissing the living hell out of the bound man. His hand is stroking feather light against the other’s erection as his role of being a distraction is no longer needed, but still needing to help maximize the other’s pleasure.

Slowly and gently rocking in and out a few times, gaining inch by inch each time he presses in, Castiel finally completely seated inside of Dean. This time the moan comes from his own mouth, and both Deans break their heated kisses to stare lustfully at the cause of the sound. Castiel wants nothing more than to slam into Dean, but even with his grace this low he can still hurt Dean. Not only that, but this is meant to show Dean the other feelings that can come with this intimate act. This is much more than a carnal act of pleasure for Castiel, and he only wants it to be the same for this Dean. He deserves it more than anyone else.

He continues slowly thrusting in and out and the other Dean breaks away from kissing the other to match the speed of his strokes, and he has no problem admitting to himself that he wants to watch Castiel’s first time just as much as the one at the table who looks ready to start stroking himself through his pants any second. When Dean thinks about it, that sounds like a great idea and with his free hand he slides his fingers through the waistband of his underwear and begins stroking himself at the same speed as the other.

Castiel’s wings shiver when he looks up and sees Dean stroking himself and the tied up Dean together, and he takes careful notice of exactly how Dean’s doing it and how he likes it. Both Deans are watching and moaning and Castiel is slowly losing his self-restraint and unknowingly starts speeding up his pace and thrusting harder and harder. Dean’s legs finally wrap around his waist, pushing himself back between his double’s hand and Castiel’s cock until his legs start to shake and his toes curl. He’ll be surprised if everyone in the motel doesn’t hear them, Sammy included. The feeling intensifies when Castiel has found that bundle of nerves again and catches on quick to hit that spot as much as he possibly can.

Dean feels his climax close and it looks like the other two are not far off themselves, but he needs more. He wishes he had his hands free so he can grab at something. Pulling at the tie again, Dean tries to pull himself closer to the angel thrusting hard and fast into him. He can see Castiel right on the edge right before Castiel leans down and kisses him as passionately as the other Dean had but with a warmth and feeling that matches the one he feels from the feathers in his hands. Dean comes as every nerve in his body lights up and tingles through his body and an overwhelming pleasure and heat overtakes him right down to his core.

Slowly coming down from his high, he realizes that Castiel must have come at the same time as he feels the angel riding out the last waves of pleasure. Castiel pulls enough away so Dean can catch his breath and the two stare deep into each other’s eyes for a minute before Castiel finally pulls himself out.

Dean’s body feels empty now, but there’s something else that still gives him a full and satisfied feeling all over. It’s not something he can bring himself to think about right now or even anytime soon, but he can’t stop the smile on his face. Nor does he want to stop the matching one on Castiel’s. “Fuck.”

“That was…” Castiel seems to be at a loss for words.

But Dean seems to have the right ones for him, “That was fucking amazing, Cas.”

Heavy breathing to their side breaks their trance, and Dean sees that the other has yet to reach his own orgasm. Castiel seems to have just noticed this as well and his eyes darken at the sight. “I believe I owe you for your misbehavior in the car. _And_ for your very good behavior since then.”

Still managing to smirk in his completely wrecked state, Dean manages, “You bet your sweet angel ass you do.”

Castiel growls and grabs Dean by the back of his head and pulls him close, “Not mine,” and kisses him as rough as Dean had kissed his double. This time it’s the confident Dean to be confused, and as usual, before he can answer Castiel pulls away again and looks back down to the worn out, tied man beside them.

“Consider this my warning.” Castiel presses a hand to Dean’s stomach and he moans as everyone realizes that Castiel had used his mojo to get the spent Dean ready for another round.

“You kinky angel.” Dean smirks and wraps his arms around Castiel’s neck and attempting to stealthfully card his fingers through the feathers he finds himself completely enraptured by.

Unwinding Dean’s arms from around him, Castiel pushes at Dean and tries to manhandle him to where he wants him to go. Dean, no matter how confident he is, sees that this is going to be difficult with another Dean currently preoccupying the space Castiel is trying to push him into. Castiel seems to be getting impatient again, and when he finds Dean isn’t taking well to being directed to where he wants him to go, Castiel picks him up by his waist and spins him around so that he’s facing his double.

“Cas, you know you could have just said what you wanted.” Dean chuckles at Castiel’s eagerness.

Dean feels hands pawing at the soft fabric again and kneading the soft flesh hiding underneath it. He moans when both of Castiel’s hands snake under the fabric, one in the front and one in the back. As much fun as all of this is, he needs relief soon. He can only imagine how rough it must be on the third Dean right now.

Castiel’s hands push the fabric to the side, but he makes no effort to remove the clothing, and both Deans jolt when Castiel’s hand wraps around both of their erections and strokes them together. He strokes them a few times and keeps his other hand on the back of the panties, pushing them off to the side. Dean looks over his shoulder to catch a glimpse at Castiel and what he’s doing but instead he sees the other Dean at the table watching intently at what Castiel is doing. Suddenly, Dean knows what his counterpart felt like earlier.

Still focused on what’s transpiring behind Dean, the one at the table speaks up, “You keep that up, Cas, I’m gonna start thinking you have fixation.”

Both of the Deans on the bed turn to face the third, the question forming on their lips, when The Dean on top nearly yelps as Castiel’s tongue is working in the same manner as it had earlier. This time, however, more determined and more exploring. Castiel’s tongue plays at the entrance and presses just slightly in and flicks out again making sure to catch the rim each time. The arms Dean’s holding himself up are already starting to shake. He wants to push against Castiel’s heavenly tongue, and boy will he tease Cas about that later, but he also wants to push and grind up against the hand stroking him and the Dean below him.

The worst part is that if Castiel stops he can’t do anything about it. His arms are focused at holding him up, and the other Dean is too busy being tied up from him no less. Castiel has complete control over both of them and he knows it. Rustling is heard off in the direction of the table, but Dean can’t do anything but shake as Castiel’s tongue presses deep inside much like the way his angry double had done to Castiel’s mouth when Castiel had him pushed hard against the wall and this all started.

Castiel was right. He’s not experienced, but he’s got to give the angel some credit. The guy sure learns fast.

Letting the fabric slip from his fingers, Castiel lets his hands fall away much to the disappointment of the two men under him. It’s only for a few seconds, and then one hand is back and wraps around their desperate and aching cocks. He strokes them a few times more before removing his hand again. Dean wants to scream at him, wants those blissful hands back, but Castiel has other plans.

Returning to his previous task, Castiel’s wet tongue opens up Dean as much as he can before he slides in a slick finger alongside causing Dean to buck hard against the one beneath him. They both groan as their erections grind against each other and the now damp satin fabric and the elastic presses against them both. Before Castiel’s hand left, he pulled the other Dean’s erection through the side of the panties alongside Dean’s own with the heads of both protruding from the top waist band.

Dean chalks this interesting bondage up as possibly another fetish the not so innocent angel has. Not that any version of the Deans have any objections.

Again, the intrusions are strange, but Castiel is taking great care to make sure it doesn’t hurt Dean. While Dean doesn’t have any problems with it, it comes with the territory, he’s glad he can focus on the feelings right away instead of waiting and adjusting while he pushes past the pain. This particular Dean is much more vocal than the previous, uncaring if anyone hears.

The shifting and rustling off to the side happens again, “Not so cocky now, are you?” The man at the table almost sounds breathless and his fingers are gripping his pants legs tight in his fingers.

Unable to resist, Dean sighs out as Castiel pushes in another finger, “Not yet.”

Seeing the terrible pun, Dean’s face twists in annoyance as he sits back in his chair and he refrains from saying anything else.

Castiel’s fingers curl and his tongue continues to thrust in and out of Dean’s heat, and Dean finally has to lower himself against the man below him or fear his arms giving out completely. Their chests are pushed flushed against each other, their breaths are hard and labored and the only other sound is the obscene sucking and finger-fucking going on below. Every time Castiel hits a particular spot, Dean finds himself thrusting forward and rutting against the bound Dean. At some point Castiel is hitting it every other time and Dean has built up a rhythm as he grinds his hips.

He can’t take anymore and he needs to have Castiel now, “Cas.” Dean mouths at the hard, stubbled jaw in front of him, his rocking starting to waver off the rhythm they built. “Fuck me.”

Those two words are said so deep and demanding, that it causes Castiel has no choice but to agree. Retreating his fingers and with one last, long swipe of his tongue he pulls the panties aside and repositions himself with the head of his cock at Dean’s slick entrance.

Castiel is a bit hastier this time and presses in a little bit harder and faster, but it’s exactly what this Dean needs and Dean clutches at the pillow under the other’s head and cries out. He wants more and pushes back against Castiel only to be stopped by hands with angelic strength, “Did I say you could move?”

Holding Dean still, Castiel continues to push in until he’s fully inside and both moan out in unison. Instead of pausing to let Dean adjust, he circles his hips and runs his hands up Dean’s back. The feeling is amazing, but Dean’s certain he can do exactly what Cas wants him to, and that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

First spending a few moments of just simply running his hands all over Dean’s tanned skin, Castiel slowly starts rocking his hips just barely even moving and both Deans’ hands are trying desperately to move but refrain or are hindered by the tie.

The Dean with his hands tied wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around those in front of him, he wants to take care of them and with his hands bound and his legs caught together from the man straddling on top of him he’s helpless to do anything other than provide friction for the man rutting down on him. Their bodies are slick with sweat and are sliding against one another as Castiel’s thrusts start becoming deeper and both Deans have no choice but to take the pleasure and comfort Castiel gives them.

That’s when they both realize it. All of this, it is all about Castiel taking care of Dean and a flare of emotions well up inside them both. If this was ‘ _normal’_ Dean, there’s no doubt in his mind that this would be too much and would scare the shit out of him. A small part of it does, but the other part feels that warmth again. The same warmth when their hands run through the feathers of Castiel’s wings. He knows there will definitely need to be some talking later, undoubtedly a chick flick moment that Dean wants nothing more to avoid, but that’s later.

Castiel feels the change in Dean’s emotions and smiles that he’s finally getting through to Dean. His pace quickens and he thrusts hard savoring every sound from Dean he can get. He’s the one doing this, making Dean feel this way, and it lights up his grace in a way it never has before. The slap of skin, panting, and moaning fills the room and wings spread out high above them.

“Cas…” The man in the middle’s whole body is shaking and he feels heat pool and coil in his stomach. He knows he’s close. “Cas, please. Can I…”

The angel thrusting into him reaches his right hand between the two others and starts stroking them together in the time of his thrusts, his left hand reaches and grasps the brand he left on Dean what feels like countless ages ago. Castiel nestles his head against Dean’s neck and whispers, “Yes, Dean.”

Dean’s climax is near blinding and he’s seeing lights behind his eyes as he climaxes. The sight in front of the other Dean in combination of the rough hands stroking his cock and the silkly flesh being stroked alongside it, is too much and he follows right after. It’s just as intense as the first and both Deans are near screaming.

As the two have reached their peaks, Castiel quickly undoes the tie with his right hand paying no attention to the fact he’s gotten it dirty. The moment his hands are free, Dean’s hands shoot out and his arms grab around the two men and up to the blades of Castiel’s shoulders. When Dean’s hands reach the joints where the wings meet his vessel’s back, Castiel thrusts again hard and cries out causing the windows to shake and the lights and television to flicker. One bulb on the far wall pops loudly.

Castiel doesn’t wait long before he slides out of Dean, and he leaves the two on the bed drained and exhausted. He cleans them up before he breaks contact completely and then turns to face the last Dean.

This Dean looks like a wreck. His skin is glistening, and his lips are red and puffy from what Castiel assumes is from biting them. Dean’s clothes are stretched as if he was pulling them away because they were suffocating them. Castiel takes a brief moment to notice that Sam must have closed the blinds and curtain before he left abruptly and silently thanks him. Who knows how Dean would have reacted if anyone saw them.

A small burst of anger overcomes Castiel at the thought of other people seeing Dean like this. He knows better than to be possessive, Dean’s his own person and can make his own decisions, but Castiel can’t help the fact he wants to be the only being to see Dean like this ever again.

Castiel surges forward and Dean stands up only to find them both on the empty bed, “Dammit, Cas! What did I tell you about-”

“Shut up, Dean.” Castiel growls out and starts ripping at Dean’s clothing, crushing his lips against Dean’s.

Dean wants to complain about how Castiel just had his mouth in places Dean doesn’t want to talk about, but there’s nothing except that same taste, that feeling and smell from when they shared their first kiss. Castiel is probably cheating again.

Clothes are flying, and hands and lips are everywhere. Wings flap wildly and knock over the lamp on the nightstand. Everything is chaotic and frantic until Castiel finally removes Dean’s pants and Dean cries out in relief, “Thank God!”

Castiel’s eyes narrow at Dean’s comment, but he’s too hot to do anything more than continue ripping away Dean’s clothing. He rips at them like they personally offended him, though Castiel finds they are doing just that by keeping Dean’s warm skin away from him.

The two Dean’s watch from their place on the other bed too lost in their afterglow to do anything else. Dean does, however, take a lazy moment to remove the satin underwear before collapsing back on the bed.

Castiel pushes Dean against the bed once he’s finally be divested of all of his clothing, and it looks like Dean’s about to protest. The angel knows what’s going through Dean’s mind and decides to put him at ease as he straddles the man’s waist, “I said I would let you fuck me Dean. I never said anything about giving you control.”

It appears to be the correct answer, and Dean’s eyes widen and chuckling comes from the other bed. “You are all kinds of kinky, aren’t you, Cas?”

Castiel doesn’t even need to look to know which one is talking to him and instead focuses on lifting his hips up above Dean. There’s no preparation, no warning, and Dean nearly comes right then when Castiel starts pushing himself on Dean’s neglected cock. It’s perfect, tight heat wrapped around Dean and though he grouses internally about how long he had to wait, he secretly thinks it was well worth it. Castiel completely takes Dean in one long thrust. He doesn’t even wait, Castiel immediately goes to work bouncing up and down, using his wings to give him more control and push.

Dean’s hands grip Castiel’s hips and his head presses hard into the pillow. The pace Castiel sets is brutal and the wind caused by his flapping wings is causing things to blow around the room. Dean’s been on edge for some time so it’s no surprise he’s already feeling his orgasm within reach and he wants to berate himself for not lasting as long especially after his long wait. “Cas, I’m not gonna last long.”

This only encourages Castiel to bounce faster and harder, “You sound as if,” Castiel moans, “this is the only time we’re going to do this.”

That’s all it took for Dean and he climaxes, Castiel not far behind. Castiel doesn’t even have to touch himself, it was the feeling of Dean spilling inside him that drove him over his own edge. Castiel climbs off of Dean, cleaning the sweat and drying come away with a thought and the other two Deans make their way to the other bed.

The bed is cramped with four people on it, but none of them pay any mind to it and it isn’t long before all three Dean’s fall asleep.

 

__________

 

Sam returns the next morning quite proudly with the “cure” to the curse. It’s a simple enough fix and he’s glad for it considering how this stuff usually goes. He’s not prepared for what he stumbles in on. He sees all three Deans and Castiel wrapped up around each other. Sam drops the ingredients for the spell on the floor causing the four others to stir and quickly leaves. “I’ll uh… come back when you’re not… er…”

He doesn’t even bother to finish as he leaves and slams the door closed.

Everyone seems startled by the younger brothers appearance, but the confident Dean pulls closer, “Now where were we?” He pushes Castiel down against the bed and leans in close, “I think it’s our turn to take care of you.”

 

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Author's Note:**

> And this is why I don’t write porn. I have to set up absolutely everything. And to be perfectly honest I cut out a lot of the beginning...
> 
> Luciferian Witchcraft was founded by Michael Ford and although practitioners do focus on ‘Left Hand Path’ of magic that does NOT mean they are evil or all/any practicing witches are for that matter. The practice for Luciferian Witchcraft does, in fact, center on the Devil, the Adversary, the gnosis of Fallen Angels, and sex magic. The portrayal of these particular witches here is just to fit the Supernatural verse. This is not how I view them.
> 
> As odd as it sounds, Amy IS the name one of the fallen angels and one of the seventy-two Spirits of Solomon, but now I can say I blame the whole thing on Amy and it would be completely true.


End file.
